


Evolution

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-26
Updated: 2006-03-25
Packaged: 2018-08-16 07:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8093383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Starfleet needs to decide whether T'Pol or a respected commander replaces Archer in the wake of his abduction. Meanwhile, a computer below the surface of the Ionian world is trying to reveal its secrets. (01/11/2004)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Spoilers, 1.17 "Fusion."  
  
A note about "If Fairy Tales Were True". I wrote the first part of Abduction several weeks before "Similitude" had aired, and posted it to Yahoo! Groups EnterpriseandBeyond the very day it aired. As such, as the result of my observations of previous encounters between T'Pol and Trip, I never even imagined a T'Pol/Tucker pairing. Fortunately, the story did not hint at the possibility of a relationship between T'Pol and any member of the crew. All that is really expressed is Archer's feelings towards T'Pol. The result: I felt confident enough to elaborate on the T'Pol/Tucker pairing in "Evolution".  


* * *

Sound does not exist within the vacuum of space. Why is that? There is no atmosphere in space. There is nothing in space. Space is a void. Where there is oxygen, nitrogen, carbon dioxide, ozone and a host of other gases there is something present to fill the void. These gases are made of molecules. They are particles that are so tiny that they are invisible, yet they are so numerous that they encompass every single thing, living or otherwise. Sound must have solid objects to travel along, and tiny though they may be, molecules and atoms are solid objects. They have weight, albeit they are too light for gravity to capture, at least on most planets. They have mass and matter. When one waves a through the air, he or she can feel the molecules washing over their flesh. In the air, though it cannot be seen, something is there. That is how sound is there. So in space there is no sound because there is nothing at all.

Now, imagine we can bend the laws of physics. If we could hear into space at this very moment, what would we hear? Though it may seem strange, we would hear crying. We would hear the sobs of a woman. Now imagine that we can hear it. One might wonder where could it possibly be coming from? There is no need to wonder for long, for our answer will come soon enough. Few humans, if any, could ever hear the pathetic sob, and certainly no fancy electronic device of any starship could hear it, but T'Pol did. So did every being with even the slightest potential for telepathic ability within an area of two hundred light-years. All of them dismissed it as a creak in the deck plating on his or her ship, the sound of the front door opening in a beach house on a nearby inhabited world, or simply on his or her imagination. All of them, except T'Pol.

"What was that?" T'Pol's head was craning toward the comm station.

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed was too hard at work transmitting calculations to main engineering to notice anything else. At the helm, Ensign Travis Mayweather looked up to the center seat, quite curious. T'Pol, as a Vulcan had extremely sensitive hearing, much more so than any normal human did. There was one human, however, one very special human that could hear somewhat better than any Vulcan. Ensign Hoshi Sato looked up in confusion; her one good eye narrow while the other one was hidden under a blue patch until which time it healed. "Commander?"

"You didn't hear that?" T'Pol looked at the young Japanese girl in equal confusion.

Hoshi looked to her comm station readout, then up and to her left at her sensor readout. "I'm not picking anything up."

T'Pol stood up and walked abruptly to the comm station and began to observe the readouts for herself. She had not imagined the sound. "I know I heard it, it sounded like a soft..." T'Pol searched for the word "...squeal."

"Umm, there's nothing squealing over here." Hoshi was trying to sound as nonplused as possible.

"I couldn't have imagined it. Vulcans don't imagine things." T'Pol knew that that had not sounded the way she had intended it, but at the moment it really didn't concern her. "Try scanning the city. Perhaps some sort of transmission was sent." T'Pol went to her own station to observe through her viewer.

"I'm picking up some unusual energy readings below the city. It doesn't seem to be transmitting anything, but it is worth mentioning." Hoshi suddenly noticed a red indicator at the right of her console. "Commander. Captain Tir of the Tavris is hailing us. They claim they will be arriving in fifteen minutes."

T'Pol could have ordered Hoshi to simply send an acknowledgment, but T'Pol wanted to respond personally. "Put her on screen."

Tir's image replaced the ocean-planet-dominated starfield. A mane of well cared for autumn red hair covered her scalp. Her emerald eyes fixed T'Pol with a piercing stare. Her skin was colored like the surface of the moon. Her black, red-trimmed, V-neck uniform made her look even more impressive. She didn't seem like a natural being. It was difficult to believe that she was Vulcan. "Sub-Commander T'Pol, I had not expected to see you again so soon."

T'Pol did not like the emphasis that she had placed on "Sub", but she would not mention her disdain. Tir and T'Pol had always been rivals and it was only to be expected that the Captain of the Tavris would behave towards the First Officer of the Enterprise in some degrading manner. T'Pol, ever the Vulcan, would be always logical, and quite emotionless. It would be polite to correct her colleague's error, however. "I am a Starfleet officer now. My rank is strictly Commander."

"My apologies...Commander. I forgot."

Like hell she did.

"It has been a long time, T'Pol."

Not long enough. "Indeed. I am surprised you were able to respond to our distress call so quickly."

"We were stationed at a planet only thirty-two light-years from Deneb. How might we be of assistance?"

She wasn't T'Pol's first choice for assistance. By the same token, Tir wasn't T'Pol's last choice. In fact, she wasn't any of T'Pol's choices. Use only logic. True, this woman tested T'Pol's patience, but logic had always prevailed over her. "Our engines have taken severe damage. If I could requestâ€”"

Tir didn't give T'Pol a chance to finish. "I will send my engineering staff immediately to assist you. There were several Starfleet officers stationed at our embassy on the planet at which we were stationed. I sent your distress call to Starfleet Command and they reassigned one of those officers to Enterprise as an 'observer'. At the request of Admiral Forrest, I provided him with passage. His name is Commander Miriam Edgewater."

That was strange. Tir usually behaved in a more superior fashion than this. "Thank you." T'Pol knew that she would regret this. "Would you care to come aboard? Enterprise may not be that advanced, but I think you will find it interesting." T'Pol hoped that Tir would decline. One didn't need emotions to dislike someone, and T'Pol disliked Tir more than anyone she knew.

"I accept your invitation. I would be honored to be a guest aboard Enterprise. It has developed some notoriety in recent years." Her face and voice were emotionless. Her words in no way betrayed her thoughts.

T'Pol knew better. Tir was as far from being a Vulcan as a Vulcan could be. Ambition and self-importance were the driving forces in her life. Of all the Vulcan's alive, she acted perfect. Her logic never failed and her emotions never surfaced, but they were clearly there. This was unacceptable by Vulcan standards. A Vulcan must at least make an effort at repressing his or her emotions. Tir seemed to have only hidden them in a very clever way. Why no other Vulcan ever detected this, T'Pol could only guess. "We will be pleased to have you. There is also the matter of Deneb IV..."

"Indeed, a truly remarkable discovery. I am impatient to see the city for myself. Surely, the Vulcan High Command and the Science Directorate will be dueling for your service, should you ever accept the...numerous offers of reinstatement that you have received."

Was that a hint of envy T'Pol detected? Emotion had never been so evident on any Vulcan's face. Tir had gloated over T'Pol's assignment on an Earth vessel. She had been even more unbearable when T'Pol asked to stay onboard. Finally, T'Pol got into a spot of trouble with the Vulcan High Command, and Tir was positively sadistic. Now she comes to T'Pol carrying jealousy. Five years ago, Ambassador Soval had considered Tir for the assignment to Enterprise, but he decided that T'Pol would be more competent. Tir had advanced. She had transferred to service on a ship, was now in command and having never gone anywhere near Enterprise. That meant that she didn't get to be a participant in one of the greatest archaeological discoveries in history. She only got to come in after the fact. That would warrant envy.

"My staff and I will arrive in approximately seventeen minutes, then."

"Indeed. We will be ready. Enterprise out."

Hoshi tapped her panel, perhaps a little too aggressively, then looked up at the view screen and said, "What...a...witch."

T'Pol turned to Hoshi. "Tir is a highly respected officer of the Vulcan High Command and a highly skilled commander." The reprimand was only half-hearted, but in spite of her overall opinion of Tir, she still had to set an example, and whatever Tir was, she still deserved respect.

"Whatever. I can't believe how rude she was to you, and insulting. More over, I can't believe you took it."

T'Pol closed her eyes. She opened them approached Hoshi in a very benign gesture, and said in Vulcan, "Confrontation is not the only way to deal with undesirable behavior."

Hoshi replied in Vulcan, "Just because she is respected, it doesn't mean she has a license to disrespect you." Hoshi continued in English, "What is there between you two?"

"I am Vulcan. She merely pretends that she is, figuratively speaking. When I was with the Vulcan High Command, she saw me as an obstacle that she could not vault. Now she sees me as the reason for her overall failure."

"Failure?" T'Pol looked over to the tactical station. Malcolm's curiosity had unglued him from his console. "She seemed fairly successful to me in that neat little uniform."

T'Pol knew that these humans were capable of comprehending, but there was not enough time left in her life to go into the explanation of her relationship with Tir. "There are more things to life than commissions and promotions. Her failure was spiritual in nature. Mr. Reed, would you please accompany me to the airlock." She tapped a nearby intercom pad. "Commander Tucker, meet me at the starboard airlock on C deck, immediately." She turned back to Hoshi. "Clear that airlock for Tir's arrival."

Hoshi nodded her confirmation, and on that note, T'Pol and Malcolm began their journey to the airlock. Everything was so different without Captain Archer. The atmosphere was melancholy and resigned. It had been four days since his disappearance, and Enterprise was grounded for a month, at best. Then there was the matter of the effect of Janice Ray's murder, and the fact her best friend had done it in cold blood. This indeed was a sad time for the crew.

Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker III, Commander T'Pol and Lieutenant Reed waited outside the airlock where a Vulcan shuttle would dock in six minutes. Malcolm couldn't wait to meet the impressive woman he had seen on the viewer a few minutes earlier. Trip took this moment to pull T'Pol out of earshot of Malcolm. T'Pol suspected what this might be about, but she hoped he would behave appropriately. This was neither the time nor place for this kind of discussion.

Trip appeared to be heavily debating his words. He seemed to make a decision. "I have something I need to talk to you about...not here," he added quickly. "Come to my quarters when you get some free time."

T'Pol considered her response, then said, "I have an idea of your concern. Do not worry we will find Captain Archer, and then life on this ship will return to normal for all of us."

"That doesn't quite cover it. I think you hit the nail on the head with the part about things not being normal, but..."

"'But', what?"

Trip smiled uneasily. "You know that this Edgewater fellow you told me about is going to come in here, and he's going to go into a whole spiel about how Starfleet has declared Jonathan Archer missing. They have to. He is."

"What is your point?"

Trip got that irritated look that he always gets. "The point is Starfleet logic. Enterprise is going to need a captain until Archer can be found. My point is section fourteen of Starfleet regulations."

"The regulation regarding conduct among officers." T'Pol's face: unreadable. "I know, and I suspected that this would be the topic of this discussion. Charles, nothing is permanent and that includes this obstacle. We have formed a bond that, for a Vulcan (and I believe for you as well), is unbreakable. No 'regulation' can change that. It can only hinder it. I promise this will not last. We will find Captain Archer and he will command this vessel again."

Trip resigned himself to this, but he had something else to say. "You know...I..."

"Charles, remember what I told you about love. It is not what it seems. What you feel for me is something much stronger. Remember what I told you and you can weather this. Of course, if my suspicions concerning this Miriam Edgewater are correct, that may not be an issue."

"What's that s'posed to mean?"

T'Pol gave Trip a meaningful look. "Starfleet may not be willing to appoint a Vulcan as a representative of Earth."

"Hold it just one minute. You mean they're...but that's ridiculous. This crew's been together for five years. We're the only ones that know this ship inside and out. You're the only one qualified to fill in for John."

"Perhaps Starfleet will agree. Perhaps they will not. That test is about to begin."

"Well, I just want you to know, that what we have is worth waiting for."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "A very mature attitude. I am surprised. It is most unusual for you to assume a mature attitude."

Trip started to grin. "Now you're just makin' fun of me." They began to walk back towards the airlock. Tir was overdue.

T'Pol looked totally unconcerned by Trip's accusation. "Am I indeed?"

The smile on Trip's face widened. "You always make fun of me."

They were now in the airlock along with a very impatient Malcolm Reed. T'Pol's display of indignation was totally unconvincing. "Certainly not!"

Trip started to laugh. "You've made fun of me ever since the day we met."

T'Pol was completely unabashed. "Really?"

"You enjoy making fun of me, and just me."

"If indeed I 'make fun of you', what make's you think that I make fun of only you?"

"I've never seen you make fun of anyone else."

Malcolm was in no mood for humor. He was impatient to meet this impressive woman who had treated T'Pol so disgracefully. Malcolm favored himself a gentleman, and as irritating as this new disagreement between Trip and T'Pol was, an English gentleman was not about to be rude. He would interrupt politely. "Excuse me Commander, but when did Captain Tir say that her party was going to arrive?"

T'Pol looked over at Malcolm and then to the airlock. "They were supposed to arrive four minutes ago."

"That figure's. I hope that they don't plan on making us wait for too much longer. I've got work to do. Until we get the new shields fixed we're stuck with the old hull polarization systems."

"I was under the impression that the ship's systems were the domain of Mr. Tucker."

Trip stepped in. "Yeah, but I need the output ratio and field density figures and it's the armory officer that deals with that. We've only got a little bit more to do."

A moment later, a loud clank sounded outside the hatch. To the left of the compartment, a green indicator light on the main airlock control switched to red. Malcolm walked over to panel and waited. There was a thunk and then the panel sounded an indicator. Malcolm entered a series of commands. A whooshing sound could be heard outside the airlock. When silence fell once again, Malcolm entered another series of commands. There followed the abrupt hiss of an opening door. A moment later another hiss indicated that the door had closed. The indicator light on the panel switched back to green and Malcolm walked over to the hatch and pressed a button on the panel to the right.

The doors slid open to reveal ten people. They were standing in two rows of five. To the front of the left row was Tir. She had not altered her appearance or dress in the slightest. She was even more beautiful in person than over a comm line. There was something else about her that Malcolm had immediately noticed. Standing at six foot seven, she easily dwarfed everyone in the compartment. Malcolm, who was already quite short, was acutely aware of this woman's height, which bordered on giantism. For her height, she was also unusually thin. Ambassador Soval wasn't even as tall as this woman was, and he was the tallest man that Malcolm had ever seen. The only other person that he knew of who came close to this woman's height was Captain Archer, who stood at six foot four.

At the front of the other row was a human who looked vaguely familiar to Malcolm. He was clean-shaven with short, black hair. He didn't look that tall, but that was only due to the fact that he was standing next to Tir. He had a very muscular build and broad shoulders. This man could have been a pro-wrestler. His Starfleet uniform bore the rank insignia of a full commander. The patch on his arm read "Starfleet Command: Science and Operations". The patch was also emblazoned with the United Earth emblem; an olive branch surrounding an image of the planet Earth. He was in his mid to late thirties. This must have been Commander Miriam Edgewater. Now Malcolm recognized him. Edgewater was in line to take command of the NX-04 when construction was completed in eight months.

T'Pol approached Tir and extended her right hand. Malcolm and Trip almost expected a handshake, but then saw the hand flip vertical. T'Pol's fingers split into the familiar Vulcan greeting. Malcolm saw one of the Vulcans behind Tir gently tap her hand. Tir flipped her hand upward, returning the salute, but only T'Pol said, "Live long and prosper."

Tir seemed to become suddenly oblivious to T'Pol and then walked over to Trip. She extended her hand, clearly offering a handshake. She also did so for Malcolm. Both of them accepted. All three-T'Pol, Trip, and Malcolm-were puzzled by Tir's bizarre display of polite abruptness. She finally spoke. "Which of you is the chief engineer of this vessel?"

Trip straightened up and smiled politely. "That would be me. Commander Charles Tucker III, but everyone calls me Trip." Trip didn't even know why he added that. The idea that Tir would ever call him Trip was absurd. No Vulcan aside from the melders ever called him Trip, not even T'Pol.

Then to his surprise, she said, "I have brought eight people with me you should find helpful, Trip." Eight Vulcans, none of them as tall as Tir, or even himself, stepped out from behind Commander Edgewater. "This is Commander Miriam Edgewater."

The only human among these Vulcans stepped out and said, "If you don't mind, I prefer my middle name; Robert."

T'Pol took his proffered handshake and said, "I am Commander T'Pol. Commander Tucker has already introduced himself, and this," she released Robert's hand to indicate Malcolm, "is our armory officer; Lieutenant Malcolm Reed." Robert took each of their hands in turn. Now that he was a respectable distance from Tir, everyone could see that he was the same height as Trip.

Tir indicated the Vulcan who was standing directly to her side. He was relatively young. He was thin and tall, though nowhere near as tall as Tir. He had short black hair and his face sported a friendly sort of sneer. "This is my chief engineer, Sub-Commander Renik. Among his engineering staff is Sub-Sentinel Lutia (she indicated an extremely young, thin, short, and fragile looking woman), Centurion Dartan (a middle-aged, average height Vulcan who appeared to be ironed into his uniform), Sub-Sentinel R'Tol (a stately, young, strawberry skinned woman), Sub-Sentinel Rin (a man with a weak chin), Sentinel Sopek (the image of the stereotype Vulcan male), Sub-Centurion Lorrik (a tall albino man), and Centurion Vek (he was short and slightly plump)."

T'Pol turned to Trip. "Commander, I think you know you're job."

Trip turned to the engineers and said, "Okay, if you fella's would just follow me, I'll show you where we need to go." Trip turned to walk aft of the ship thinking that Tir didn't seem so bad. Malcolm made her sound like the Daughter of Satan. He waited until he was certain everyone was following. That left only Tir, Robert, Malcolm, and T'Pol.

Tir turned to address T'Pol for the first time since her arrival. "Commander T'Pol, it pleases me to see you again."

T'Pol was not able to concur. She also would not lie to Tir, so she decided on a vague answer. "I have noticed your absence over the years."

Her answer wasn't vague enough. Tir raised an eyebrow. Robert Edgewater was unsuccessfully suppressing a laugh, and Malcolm couldn't stop himself from grinning ear to ear. Tir stepped forward and said, "Much has changed since our last meeting, T'Pol."

"I don't doubt it." Now that Tir was standing closer, T'Pol was just able to make out the scar on her right temple. "How did you acquire that scar?"

"It was an accident. Pay it no mind. I understand you've become quite attached to these people." Tir was deliberately ducking the question.

T'Pol did not know shame. "They are my friends. It appears to have been caused by a blunt object."

"It is only a scar. All scars heal in time."

"Not all scars."

"OUCH!" Hoshi looked up at Doctor Phlox in sudden surprise.

"Quit playing with it!" Doctor Phlox had just slapped Hoshi's hand...hard. "It will never heal properly if you don't stop playing with it." She had been fidgeting with the blue patch that was protecting her injured eye. Phlox returned to examining his bio scanner. Sickbay was empty save the numerous unusual creatures that the Denobulan Doctor kept company with. A soft cooing sound was coming from the cage that housed Phlox's Tenebian bat. In a cage in the office somewhere out of sight, it sounded as though two of the creatures had gotten into a fight. Phlox looked unconcerned.

When it sounded like an all out brawl, Hoshi said, "Doctor, aren't you going to do something?"

"Whatever are you talking about?"

"That fight in the office."

"Fight? Oh, no. It's my Pyrenian sea doves. It's their mating season. They always sound like that this time of year."

Hoshi could have sworn that she heard something break against the floor. "Maybe you could tie the cage down."

"No, I put them on the floor. They probably just broke their water bottle again. They're usually more violent than this. They must be worn out from last night. That's when their mating season began."

"Pyrenian birds mate that aggressively?"

"Oh, they're not birds. They are rather large insects. They're completely harmless, just don't go near them this time of year. The saliva glands of these insects secrete a hormone that acts as a very powerful anti-coagulant. It is also a proven medication for treating impotence." Hoshi saw the irony of this last statement and began to snigger uncontrollably.

Phlox gave her a disapprovingly amused look and said, "I wouldn't have expected such an adolescent attitude from you. Then again, like any adolescent, you seem totally fascinated by that patch on your eye to the extent that you can't keep your hands off of it." He slapped her hand again, as it was halfway to the patch again.

Hoshi adopted a look of despair. "I'm sorry. I can't help it. It gets hot and sticky and itchy. I'm only trying to let some air in."

"Air is the last thing you want anywhere near an injured eye. Oxygen can irritate it, making the blood flow increase, and with the condition of that eye, irritation could result in further injury. You haven't suffered permanent injury to that eye, but you could lose it if you don't stop playing with that patch. Don't push your luck, Ensign."

"Okay, I'll be good."

"You had better be. I'm done. Would you like to know the results?" Hoshi nodded. "You're eye is not healing as quickly as it should be. I'm going to have to ask that the patch stay on for another three days."

"But, I've already worn it for a week, and I've already got to wear it for another week. Now I have to wear it longer?"

"It's because you won't stop playing with it. Be thankful you're not wearing it for the rest of your life. Some people do. You're free to go now, and Hoshi; don't play with it."

"Okay, Doctor. I'll see you tomorrow. I'll be on my best behavior."

As Hoshi walked out the double doors of sickbay, she walked face first into Commander Edgewater. He caught her to keep her from losing balance and then set her upright again. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine, sir. I need to start watching where I'm going." Hoshi looked him up and down and realized who he was. She extended her hand, which he accepted. "I'm Hoshi Sato: the senior comm officer."

Robert noticed the stripe on her cuff. "Commander Miriam Edgewater, but if you ever forget protocol, I go by my middle name: Robert." He took the time to familiarize himself with her appearance. He had been trying to remember every name he heard and face he saw since he came aboard. "If you don't mind my asking, how did...well...what happened to..."

"...My eye? When the launch bay decompressed last week, I banged it on my console."

"Ouch!"

"My sentiments exactly. At least I still have it."

"You've got something to be thankful for. I have cousin who wasn't so lucky. She lost her right eye when she tripped over a tree root and hit the ground face first."

"How long will you be staying on board, sir?"

"Oh, I'm not sure. Admiral Forrest tells me he doesn't know how long Starfleet plans to keep me here. He says it all depends on some decision they're making."

Something was bugging Hoshi about Robert's voice and she suddenly realized what it was. "You're from Liverpool."

"Ah, what?"

"For the most part you sound like you're from Philadelphia, but you're from Liverpool."

"You are good. I haven't lived in England since I was six. I didn't even think I still had the accent."

Hoshi and Robert began to walk the same way down the corridor. "So you came on board with our Vulcan friends."

"Yeah. It wasn't that bad, actually. Commander Tir was the only one who was really interested in associating with me."

"'Commander Tir'?"

"Yeah. The rank of 'captain' doesn't exist in the Vulcan High Command."

"Oh, that's right. I keep forgetting. What did you think of Tir?"

"She was really a nice woman, which is unusual for a Vulcan. She seems to have some kind of grudge with your Commander T'Pol. They don't seem to like each other too much. Apparently, she was a little rude to T'Pol on subspace. Now everyone on Enterprise is ticked at her."

"Myself, included."

Robert smiled. "We all have our own personal devil. Sometimes they can be the nicest people in world, and they still manage to rub you the wrong way."

Hoshi considered this for a moment. "Yeah. I guess you're right. I'm still ticked at her, though."

"The great thing about being a human is that you're allowed to be ticked off."

It promised to be a long day. To Hell with that: it promised to be long week. That is how long Sub-Commander Renik said would take, with the knowledge of Commander Tucker's staff, to repair the severely damaged engines. Trip's previous estimate promised two months at best. In all honesty, Trip didn't know how Renik planned to do it with only eight Vulcans and thirty-two qualified humans. The nacelles had fried to a crisp. The impulse manifold had literally ripped itself out of it's housing. It was totaled. The injector matrix had totally destabilized, the circuits having been barbecued by the overloaded EPS grid. It would have to be replaced.

Renik promised that he could do all of this in one week: just one. He had planned to replace the injector system with a dilithium matrix similar to the one that most Vulcan ships used, but Tir indicated that that was out of the question. Trip figured that the technology was probably classified, but he did give Renik credit for at least trying. The nacelles had to be completely rebuilt. Unless the Vulcans could slow down time, Trip didn't see how that could be done in one week. The extent of the damage to the impulse manifold required them to remove a section of hull plating to access a good portion of the damaged systems.

Every one of these Vulcans was just as uptight and stiff as any that Trip had ever met. They were patronizing, arrogant, and self-important. Lutia was the only odd one out. Logical and uptight as she was, she always seemed to choke when one of Trip's staff asked her a question or for her opinion. It was though she had to have permission to interact. None of the other Vulcans were shy. For that matter, Trip wondered why a Vulcan would be shy at all. Whenever she worked up the confidence to talk intelligently to someone, one look at Renik (or from Renik) would shut her right up. What was the reason for that?

Trip couldn't imagine a Vulcan-certainly not a Vulcan like Renik-treating this girl in such a tyrannical manner that she was afraid to so much as speak. That concerned him. Not only did this girl look more fragile than a Lemoge teacup, but also she completely lacked confidence. Moreover, everything she did was micromanaged by her colleagues. She had the appearance of a woman whom once bravely fought a very hard battle and embarrassingly lost that battle. Trip knew that the logical thing to do would be to ask Renik about her, but Trip never was quite logical.

He walked up to Lutia, wondering what T'Pol would do, and wondering if he should talk to her first. It was too late for that. He was right in front of the tiny Vulcan. As politely as he could, he asked, "What are you assigned to?"

Lutia choked. "I haven't been issued an assignment, sir." She sounded apologetic.

"What do you specialize in?"

"I'm a warp field theorist, sir."

Trip was suddenly confused. "Then why doesn't Renik have you working on the warp system?"

She replied a little too hastily. "I'm only here to observe, sir."

"I don't get it. You specialize in warp fields and presumably manifold alignments and Renik just has you watching?"

"That is correct, sir."

"Is there a problem here?" Trip hadn't noticed Renik coming up behind him.

Trip turned around and faced him. "I was just wondering where the Sub-Sentinel was supposed to be."

"She is supposed to be observing."

"Uh, yeah. She told me. So is she an apprentice or something like that?"

"'Or something like that', Commander Tucker." His tone of voice was less than agreeable. He turned to Lutia. "Why have you not returned to the others?"

Lutia looked to Trip and back to Renik. "Commander Tucker has not yet dismissed me, sir."

Renik looked to Trip, who in turn looked to Lutia and said, "Go ahead on back to what you were doing. Don't let me keep you." As Lutia glided to the group of engineers that was busy extracting one of the injector systems, Trip turned back to Renik and shrugged an apology. "I didn't mean to cause a problem for you, Renik."

Renik raised his eyebrows and said, "You did not. Lutia simply requires a firmer hand than most."

"I see." Trip knew that he would definitely have to talk to T'Pol about this. He didn't know jack about the way Vulcans ran their ships, but he was certain that humiliating their crew was not among their accepted methods. All the same, Trip had learned his lesson about just jumping into the middle of other people's cultures. Yes, he would talk to T'Pol. He might also have a chat with Tir about this. He'd talk to Renik, but he got the strange feeling that doing so would be bad for his health.

There was a pleasant change of pace that night. Instead of dining in the mess hall as they usually did, Trip and T'Pol dined in her quarters. By now, the entire crew was aware of their relationship, and any speculation of what was going on in these quarters was no concern of theirs. Tonight's dinner was a particularly good Indian dish. It was a spinach curry with an exotic kind of dip made from vegetables that looked like bits of broccoli. Trip didn't like broccoli, and he was even less partial to spinach, and besides which, he wasn't a vegetarian like T'Pol was. This dish, however was among the best he had ever sampled.

T'Pol was considering everything that Trip had told her about his exchange with Renik and Lutia. They sat in silence for a few moments in which he took the opportunity to comment on the broccoli dip. "It's not broccoli," T'Pol corrected. "It is a kind of sprout. It grows quite abundantly on the Indian Island of Sri Lanka. It actually grows commonly throughout most of the Eastern Hemisphere." She bit into one of the surprisingly flavorful wheat chips that had been supplied for the dip and curry. She swallowed before saying, "I'm sorry Charles, but I can think of no instance of such behavior within any chain of command on a Vulcan starship. Why did you not ask Renik about his behavior?"

"To tell you the truth, I was a little afraid to." Trip had sheepish air about him. "I almost had the impression he was daring me to confront him about it. So this doesn't usually happen with Vulcans, then."

"No, it does not. I cannot imagine Tir condoning such behavior. Vulcans usually encourage others to perform at their maximum efficiency, not discourage." In an uncharacteristic display of absentmindedness, she began to stir the curry with one of the wheat chips.

She was in a trance-like state of contemplation when Trip broke her out of it by saying, "Uh, T'Pol? Did your parents ever tell you not to play with your food?" T'Pol looked down in surprise at a double-helix shape (or was it a figure eight?) that she didn't even realize that she had carved into the orange colored curry. The green specks of spinach had been neatly arranged into an outline. Trip finished off a chip that was coated in the sweet curry. "Isn't there something we could do about Renik and Lutia?"

"Firstly, we should not jump to conclusions. It is possible that you misinterpreted the exchange, and all things considered, I certainly hope that is the case. If your interpretation was indeed correct, there may still be little we can do. The Tavris is not our ship. I will speak with Tir." T'Pol noticed that all too familiar look of determination on Trip's face and added, "I will require your presence to corroborate certain portions of your testimony."

Trip seemed satisfied with this and returned his attention to the dip. "Sprouts and what else is in this?"

"I believe there is a soy based product giving this its consistency. As for the curry, it tastes like it has been made from, in part, oranges and spinach although there are various other ingredients that I am unable to identify, including the main ingredient."

Trip took another bite of the curry. He could just barely taste the orange. "How was your day with Tir?"

"Surprisingly, she seemed to have a genuine interest in Enterprise. She had many questions about various systems, including our warp drive, our weapons and the new shields."

"So what's the deal between you and Tir? Half the crew expects you two to shoot it out at high noon."

"That is a long story, and one that I would rather not go into."

Trip didn't press the issue. He took a drink of the orange tea, which the meal had been supplied with. The rest of the conversation covered various trivialities. After dinner, Trip decided that it would be best not to hang around, however much he wanted to. He had a busy week ahead of him, and he needed his sleep. He gave T'Pol a gentle kiss good night and proceeded to his quarters. It would feel good to just crash after the day he had gone through.


	2. Chapter 2

Ensigns Leslie Braddock and Melissa Bluewolf were the only two people in the mess hall this early in the morning. They had been having trouble sleeping for the past five days and who could blame them? With the nightmares that they had been having about Janice Ray and James Steven, it was a wonder that they got any sleep at all. The petite, raven headed, gray-eyed Ensign sat with her Amerindian friend at 0400 hours. They're duty shifts started in two hours, which left them with absolutely nothing to do.

They happened to know that Alex Mulcahy and Justin Aldin also had trouble sleeping, but they just stayed in their bunks in futile efforts to try and sleep. Life had turned upside down for all of them. The violent and gruesome murder of their friend at the hands of another of their friends had shaken them to the very core. Melissa had arranged to share quarters with Leslie. All Leslie did was cry and Melissa, who was doing everything in her power to help her friend, was now at her wit's end. "Maybe you should talk to Doctor Phlox."

Leslie sat staring emotionlessly. What could Doctor Phlox do? With all of his degrees in psychology and psychiatry, how could he truly fix a person's soul? A man that she had loved as a brother had betrayed her and everyone else. Every time she envisioned the face of James Steven, she became overwhelmed with fury and hatred. She knew that she had been unfair to everyone else since she lost the woman who had been like a sister to her. She also knew that they were worried about her, but all she could think of was Janice and James. If she ever saw him again...

Melissa became more insistent. "Les, you have to do something. This is tearing you apart. I know you feel helpless, but Leslie, life has to go on."

Leslie let out a slight hiccup. "Not for one of us."

"Yes it does! It does for her, too. It has to."

"You sound so sure."

"I am. I can't accept anything else. Can't you feel her spirit?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not as attuned to the inner workings of the universe as you and T'Pol. Besides, I'm not Apache. It's not my religion."

"It has nothing to do with religion. It is fact."

"Really?"

"You can feel it everywhere, whether you are Christian, Muslim, Hindu-it doesn't matter. You can feel the people you love. You can feel the people who love you. Their spirits are here with you. When you are finding the strength to keep moving when you can't see a reason to, it is the spirits providing it. They love you Leslie and they will never leave you. Not even death will separate them from you."

"It sounds an awful lot like magic to me."

"What would Janice want? She wouldn't want you to be miserable. She'd want you to enjoy your life. You know it's the only one you have."

"How would you know what Janice would want?"

That was low. Melissa didn't deserve that, and Leslie had some nerve saying it. In an instant, Melissa felt a flash of anger at Leslie, and in that same instant, Melissa forgave her friend's act of pain induced cruelty. That didn't change the fact that Melissa had been hurt by the words. The fact remained that she wasn't going to let it stand. "Okay, you want to be that way. That's just fine. You can be that way, but I'm not going to be your verbal punching bag."

Melissa got up to leave. Leslie choked and was barely able to say, "I'm sorry." Melissa stopped in mid-step. "I didn't mean it."

Melissa closed her eyes and sighed loudly. "You remember." Melissa had a very threatening undertone. She turned back to Leslie. "You remember that I am your friend. I am only trying to help you. I'm trying to be there for you. Don't say things like that. It's not fair. It's not nice, and I won't put up with it." Melissa returned to her seat. She put her hand on Leslie's shoulder. "Don't say things like that. It hurts when you do."

Leslie scooted her chair closer to Melissa and laid her head on the beautiful girl's shoulder. Her pain had been compounded by the fact that she had fallen in love with James. She never imagined that he would do anything like this. This was too cruel. She wondered what James had been thinking. Was he sorry that he had done it, or had this been a cold-blooded act? The answer had been obvious. It was definitely in cold-blood. How else could he have killed her? What else could possibly have driven him to do this terrible thing to her? "I just miss her so much."

Melissa embraced Leslie and said, "I know you do. I do too." She may have been right. Leslie could have sworn that she could feel Janice's comforting hand on the back of her head.

Interlude

Pain and suffering permeated the ghosts of Deneb IV. Something awful had happened within the navy-blue hull of the pristine starship. Two men had been taken through time and a young girl had died before she was supposed to. Nothing could change that now, but the pain only served to increase. The storyteller, the one who preserved their story, was crying in anguish. Now their story was imperative to the course of time, for they could feel the ripples through time. They could feel that time was in pain. It had been in pain before, but never like this. Now only their story could help it. Only their story could save it, for surely their story held the answer to this puzzle. Only the Custodian could tell their story. They had to lead the ship to the Custodian. Everything depended on it. Never before did their story so desperately need to be told.

Back to Reality...

"You are certain you heard nothing?" Tir had wanted to simply observe bridge operations, but now she was closely involved. She stood right beside Hoshi Sato and glared in amazement as the young ensign (who was somewhat disgruntled by Tir's close proximity) revealed that her incredible ears had not heard a thing.

"I don't know what you guys are hearing, but we humans can't hear a thing." Hoshi looked at the readings from her console in frustration. First it was squealing and now Tir said that it sounded almost like a woman crying. The readings were equally perplexing. Every time T'Pol or Tir said that they had heard something, there was an enormous spike in the energy readings deep below the city. "Are you certain you're hearing this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, our sensors say that nothing in the way of sound is being transmitted from anywhere. Furthermore, sound cannot travel through space and according to our instruments, if there is a sound, it is not coming from inside Enterprise."

"Perhaps it is being transmitted on a frequency that you're ears or sensors cannot perceive."

That was mildly insulting, but Hoshi knew from past experience with Vulcans that Tir had not intended it as an insult, so she let it slide. "I'd believe that of the sensors, but there's no chance of anything getting by my ears. If the sensors are functioning properly, which according to Commander Tucker they are, then you may not be hearing anything at all. According to sensors, these sudden high-pitched sounds of squealing and crying directly coincide with massive energy spikes from beneath the Ionian City on the planet. Vulcans have telepathic ability that you do not exercise. What you are hearing may not be sound at all."

"It may be the thoughts of another." It appeared as though Tir had experienced a moment of sudden revelation. Without asking, she punched a command into Hoshi's console. "Commander T'Pol. Where are you?"

"I am right here." Tir spun around. T'Pol and Robert had just stepped of the turbo lift and onto the bridge. "Did you hear it as well?"

"I most certainly did, and your truly talented comm officer has formulated a working theory as to the nature of what we are hearing."

Hoshi suddenly felt as though she had been thrust into a very big spotlight in a very big theatre. "Oh, um...well...that is...I...um...I think...I think that whatever it is that you two are hearing is coming from beneath the city. Whenever you two hear these sounds, massive energy spikes that light up our sensors like Christmas Trees accompany them. You remember, don't you Commander? The last time you heard this sound, sensors registered a bizarre series of energy patterns emanating from the planet. I also don't think it is sound. I think it is being transmitted on a telepathic level. That's why Vulcans seem to be the only ones who can hear it."

T'Pol looked from Hoshi to Tir, and back to Hoshi. "A sensible theory. Perhaps we have ignored this city for long enough. Hoshi, find Travis. Then bring him with you to the launch bay."

"Yes, ma'am." Hoshi immediately ordered the sensors to locate Travis Mayweather. Once they had, she left the bridge.

T'Pol turned between Robert and Tir. "Would you two like to accompany us to the planet?"

Tir was the first to answer. "Assuredly, Commander T'Pol."

Robert didn't waste a moment. "Absolutely."

T'Pol went to the console on the command chair and entered a series of commands. "T'Pol to Commander Tucker. I am taking an away team to the planet. You are in command until I return."

Trip responded in a hurried voice. "You be careful with that forcefield. I'm not sure how well it's going to hold under constant use."

"Duly noted. I will inform you of my return. T'Pol out."

Down in the launch bay, Travis Mayweather had gathered all the materials that they could possibly need for their new foray into the ancient city. Once they had finished loading it onto shuttle pod B, Travis made the preflight check. T'Pol looked over to the port side of the bay where the launch bay doors laid demolished. Well, Commander Edgewater and Commander Tir had both wanted to talk to her. Their opportunity was coming up shortly. Besides which, T'Pol still wanted to talk to Tir about Lutia and Renik. She would do so, but she still wanted Commander Tucker present for the bulk of the discussion.

T'Pol heard a faint rush of air as Hoshi ordered the Enterprise computer to depressurize the launch bay. Travis indicated that all systems were fully operational and the shuttle's engine was fully primed. T'Pol gave the order to get under way. She felt the shuttle lurch underneath her as they began their departure. Hoshi ordered the forcefield to drop, and then once they were clear of the ship; she ordered the launch bay to repressurize and the forcefield back up.

T'Pol watched from the starboard viewing port as the planet rapidly increased in size. Briefly, the planet appeared to be engulfed in flames. Then after a few minutes T'Pol found herself staring on a vast ocean. She told Travis to proceed to the landing coordinates. The shuttle banked starboard as Travis complied. Out the forward viewing port, everyone could see the outline of an island in the distance. They arrived in a matter of seconds. Travis landed the shuttle near the mouth of a cave. It was a mere two kilometers from the currently abandoned campsite.

They continued their trek on foot. Even up here, the caves had an artificial quality to them. The phosphorescent crystal walls had an unnatural appearance. The subterranean world had an ethereal shimmer to it. It was as though they had stepped into a world imagined by the likes of Frank Herbert or J. R. R. Tolkien. For the part of Robert, Hoshi and Travis, they could truly believe that if they searched hard enough, they would find elves, hobbits and dragons, or maybe even angels. This place was a miracle. It was an absolute miracle.

It was thirty minutes before they reached the amazing city, in this colossal chamber of the cavern. They checked all of the equipment that had been left at the campsite. Once they were satisfied that all of it was fully functional, they began to explore this city. They split up to cover more ground, one Vulcan per group. Tir went with Hoshi and Travis while T'Pol remained with Robert. "I've been meaning to talk to you, ma'am."

T'Pol began to venture inward toward what had previously been decided was the palace. "You tried to earlier this morning."

Robert followed. "I'm afraid I owe Ensign Sato an apology."

"Why is that?"

"I told her that I didn't know why I was here. I didn't want to upset her."

"And you thought that a lie was preferable to the truth?"

"No. Humans do stupid things sometimes."

"I have noticed. Why exactly are you here, Mr. Edgewater?"

They passed what looked like a fountain. It was dry, but from whirring coming from it, one could assume that it was still operational. "Admiral Forrest told me that Starfleet Command wanted me here."

"Why?"

"Starfleet was initially going to name me Captain until which time Jonathan Archer could be located, but Forrest and Ambassador Soval raised high Hell about it. Starfleet has full confidence in you, but they are uncomfortable with the idea of a Vulcan captain of a human starship."

"What do you think?" T'Pol sounded completely unperturbed.

"I was supposed to take command of the NX-04 when it was finished."

"That doesn't answer my question." They were now passing the library.

"No. It doesn't." Robert inhaled heavily, and then exhaled again. "I don't know what I should think, T'Pol. For starters, you're romantically involved with a member of the senior staff. That's fine by itself, but if Starfleet's going to name you captain, that can lead to a rather serious conflict of interest in the chain of command. Your service record is immaculate, but your Starfleet evaluations are less than sterling. I'm not talking about the annual reports John sends. He worships the ground you walk on." They had stopped walking. They were in the middle of what was clearly public-park. "I'm talking about the yearly analysis Starfleet does of official logs and mission files."

"What do my evaluations point to?"

"An insubordinate and reckless woman, T'Pol. You defied four direct orders from your superiors in the Vulcan High Command, to leave Enterprise. One after the incident with P'Jem, another in regards to your initial assignment to Enterprise, and two when Captain Archer took Enterprise into the Delphic Expanse. Now I'm not saying that you were wrong in doing so. Hell, I might have done the same thing. Who knows what the circumstances were, but that goes on file, T'Pol.

"According to your record, you disregarded a direct order from Admiral Forrest on August 14th, 2155 to reveal information to the Vulcan High Command concerning a weapon that had been found at Wolf 359. What was that about?"

T'Pol resented this interrogation, but she answered him. "We were being pursued by the Suliban. I could not risk revealing sensitive information over an open comm channel."

"What exactly was it you found at Wolf 359?"

"We're not certain. It may not even be a weapon. It appeared to be some kind of cybernetic component. The Suliban who were pursuing us claimed that it was from the future and belonged to a species calling themselves the Borg."

"Have you ever met these Borg?"

"I believe we have. Though the technology we found was very similar to the technology employed by the beings that murdered a team of scientists excavating a site at the Arctic Circle three years ago, we have no way to be certain."

"It would have been a breach of security to tell Forrest that you didn't know what the hell it was?"

"The information he was asking for concerning the device was far more specific and potentially dangerous."

"Don't you think Starfleet should have been the one to make that judgment?"

"I was acting under direct orders from Captain Archer." T'Pol deliberately and subtly raised her voice.

"I thought an Admiral outranked a Captain."

"Mr. Edgewater, I don't believe that you are aware of Starfleet protocols concerning the function of a ship. It doesn't matter who gave the order, the officer of any ship answers to the Captain of that vessel, not an Admiral in an office. The decision falls to the Captain in regards to any order in reference to a potentially life threatening situation. An Admiral has no command authority over any vessel or officer serving on that vessel in regards to operation or procedure. The Captain's orders are final.

"Furthermore, your attitude and tone is entirely inappropriate. As the first officer of Enterprise, in the absence or incapacitation of the Captain, command authority falls to me until which time Starfleet assigns an officer to replace the Captain. On any mission under the authority of Enterprise, I am in command. On board Enterprise I am in command, until which time Starfleet decides otherwise. You will treat me with all due respect, and you will follow my orders. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly." Robert's expression could not be interpreted. "Commander, I am well aware of Starfleet regulations concerning the function of a vessel. You should also be aware that at this very moment, Starfleet is going over your file with a fine tooth comb."

"I don't doubt it. Is there anything else, Commander?"

"No, that about covers it."

They continued their trek in silence. They walked through an area of buildings that looked like a honeycomb. T'Pol could not identify a single structure. The various structures glowed in multiple colors and seemed to change colors. There was a pattern to the changes that T'Pol was unable to identify. The road they were on took a winding curve upward. T'Pol was about to double back when she clearly heard a woman crying. Or it could have been a child. This time it didn't stop, and Robert could hear it too.

They followed the crying around the winding path. The further they walked the louder the crying got. They finally came to a point where four paths intersected. They were far inside one of the honeycomb structures. In the middle of the intersection was a shaft that was seemingly bottomless. A few seconds later, Hoshi, Travis and Tir arrived from the opposing path. The crying was so loud now, all of them were certain that whoever was doing it was right next to them. Hoshi and Travis clearly heard it to as they, as well as Robert, were obsessively searching for the source of the crying. T'Pol and Tir each got down on one knee and looked into the shaft. The crying stopped instantly.

"I think this is where we're supposed to go," said Hoshi.

The shaft went straight down, the walls precisely seven feet by seven feet apart. It was large enough to accommodate all of them. T'Pol moved to put her hand in the shaft and came into contact with something warm and solid. Everyone nearly had a heart attack as T'Pol simply stepped onto the shaft. When they saw she wasn't falling, everyone followed suit, and Vinarra began to rise above them.

"Sir, I've just lost contact with Commander T'Pol." Malcolm looked up from his console in concern.

Trip, who had been on the bridge ensuring that certain systems could still be accessed from the main consoles, walked over to him. "Have you tried beeping any of their communicators?"

"Every one of them, sir."

Trip, as usual, began to worry about T'Pol. "Keep trying. Let me know if you get through to any of them." He hoped to God that she was okay. He went back to his diagnosis. So far, everything on the bridge seemed to still be hooked up. When the EPS grid overloaded, he was certain he would have to replace every control relay for the engines. He took this spot of good news as an omen. He turned to look at Malcolm and called, "I've done everything I need to do up here. I'm heading back down to engineering. You have the bridge."

Trip took the turbo lift to C deck. The command center's sensors may be more sensitive. As he walked through the doors of what was once storage room C, he pulled out his communicator and scanner. He walked up to the main console and patched them both into the targeting controls of the main console. He then began trying to signal the away team.

What would T'Pol say? While he was busy worrying about her, repairs to Enterprise were being neglected. With great reluctance, he disengaged his equipment from the console, which wasn't able get a signal to T'Pol in any case, and left the command center. He wandered to engineering, unable to break his mind off of T'Pol. This was ridiculous. He was a Starfleet officer. He couldn't lose his mind over his girlfriend when there was work to be done.

He strode into engineering and walked up to Renik. "How's everything coming down here?"

"We have replaced the damaged systems down here. My team is ready to begin work on the impulse reactor."

"I've been wondering. How do you plan to get this ship up and running in a week?"

"We have access to more resources than you, and thus we have more options. Therefore, our option in this scenario is quite simple. Instead of repairing the damaged systems, we will simply replace them. That includes the impulse reactor. It will be somewhat different with the nacelles. We should be able to replace most of their components, but for a large part, they will have to be repaired."

Trip's eyes widened in realization. "I wish our cargo bay was large enough to keep a spare impulse manifold."

"Indeed. Commander Tucker, when I am finished, this ship will be fully operational. You have my personal assurance."

"That's good enough for me." Trip seemed to be steeling his nerves. After a moment of hesitation, he said, "I've been meaning to ask you about Lutia. What did you mean when you said that she requires a 'firm hand'?"

Renik took a breath before saying, "Lutia is a melder. Moreover, she has failed to achieve Kolinahr several times. She has yet to fully repress her emotions. She is quite intelligent, but she is also unpredictable. You humans seem to have developed a kind of mental equilibrium. Although your emotions do impair your ability to rationalize from time to time, you are able to function rationally and competently with your emotions. That is not true for a Vulcan.

"The emotions that we have repressed, have been repressed for a reason. They are far more volatile than human emotions. They are far more unpredictable. A Vulcan without logic cannot interact with others and even have difficulty performing the most simple of tasks. Normally, Lutia would be an outcast from our society, except that she does not engage in the activities that these melders do. Likewise, she makes every possible effort to repress her emotions.

"There is much about us that you do not understand. Lutia is experiencing a period in which she has diminished control over her emotions. These periods occur at random. This will subside and she will be able to capably function as an engineer in a day or so. She is actually quite skilled. Once she has regained control, she will be a great asset to our endeavors here. Commander Tucker, understand that she would not be a member of my department if I did not trust her or have confidence in her skills."

When Renik finished, Trip looked up. "That, I can believe. I actually feel better about it now, but I can't help but wonder what she thinks of it."

"I am quite certain that she finds her current situation most distressful, but as a society of logic and reason, we must account for the fact that she is not completely logical. The situation is disagreeable, but unavoidable."

Trip was placated, but unconvinced. He wouldn't press the issue further, but he would still have another chat with T'Pol. Now that he had calmed down, he was sure that she was okay and was merely in an area that blocked the comm signal. He went over to the main EPS control panel and began to run another series of diagnostics.

Leslie Braddock was suddenly startled. She thought that she had merely jumped but then she looked around to see that everyone in main engineering was looking at her. She realized that she had cried out. Under normal circumstances, most people would find her sudden display disgraceful and insane. These were not normal circumstances and everyone in this room knew her personal pain. The looks that greeted her were not looks of disdain, but looks of concern and understanding.

The assistant supervisor came up to her. He was a short and muscular man, like Lieutenant Reed. His name was Lieutenant Isutaki Sagura. "Are you okay, Les?"

She didn't want to tell him that she thought that she had heard Janice Ray cry out to her. She didn't want to tell him that this illusory Janice had spoken in terror. She didn't want to repeat that she had heard her dead friend say that time itself was in danger. It sounded too crazy. "I've had a hard week. Commander T'Pol gave me a couple days off and promised more time off when we got the ship back up to snuff. I'll be fine."

Sagura didn't look convinced. "This isn't the first time you've done this. You haven't slept. You hardly eat. I think that you should go see Doctor Phlox. Have him give you something to help you sleep. Eat something. Take the rest of the day off. We can manage without you until tomorrow."

"No. That's okay. I'll be..."

"Les, I wasn't asking you. I was telling you. I'll let Commander Tucker know what he needs to. You're no good to us if you're half asleep all the time." Leslie nodded gently, smiled and headed for the hatch. Sagura called after her. "Les, everything will work out. You'll see."

Leslie didn't realize how tired she was until she started to actually walk. She was halfway to sickbay when she started to feel light-headed. She knew for a fact that no matter how tired she was, her mind wouldn't let her have a moment's rest. When she finally arrived at sickbay, Phlox looked up in surprise. "Well, what brings you to this part of the ship?"

"Lieutenant Sagura told me to take the rest of the day off and get some sleep."

"Well, why don't you?"

"Because I can't. Over the past week, I've slept a total of eight hours. I just lay awake in bed all night and..." Leslie began to cry.

Phlox chose a medication from one of his drawers. "This is perfectly normal for a person who has experienced what you have." He set the sedative down and picked up his scanner. "When Commander Tucker lost his sister, he didn't even respond to some of my strongest sedatives. After what has happened, it is important for you to return to a routine that resembles something that one might call normal."

As Phlox scanned Leslie, she began to wonder whether or not she should tell him what had happened. She didn't want to sound crazy. She would certainly tell Melissa, but she wanted to tell someone who knew exactly the right thing to say. It wasn't that Melissa unaware of what to say. She just knew that Phlox might be able to help. Before she could stop herself, she just began to talk.

Phlox continued to scan her and as she finished talking, he said, "You're hippocampus appears to be hyperstimulated. It seems to be a side effect of hyperstimulation in another region of your brain."

"What does that mean?"

"I doubt that you heard Janice, but it is entirely possible that you heard something. The areas of your brain that have become active are not normally active in humans, although it does occur occasionally. This activity is usually only evident in Vulcans and other species with similar abilities. That you are aware of, has any member of your family at any time demonstrated what could be referred to as psychic ability?"

"No." Leslie wasn't certain that she wanted to know where he was going with this.

"I only ask because the portion of your brain that has become stimulated is very similar in nature to an area of the Vulcan brain that is known to have telepathic qualities. While this is rare among humans, it is not unheard of and is a matter of scientific fact. You may very well have some minor telepathic and empathic abilities. If that is the case, then you may not be just hearing things. If that is not the case, then the hyperstimulation in your hippocampus is causing an adverse effect in your cerebral cortex and perinea gland resulting in hallucination. This is a known side effect of exhaustion.

"In either case, you will be pleased to know that you are not loosing your mind. You are either simply exhausted, are being contacted on some mental level, or both. You might want to consider informing Commander T'Pol. She would likely have a better idea of what has transpired here if I have interpreted my readings correctly. In any case...

"Get some rest, but first get something to eat. According to my scans, you're starving." He picked up the sedative and injected her with it. "This is a mild sedative. Eating will not alter its effects. It also will not put you to sleep, but it will make you tired enough that you can sleep. It will begin to take effect in about an hour, so I suggest you eat now. Go on now. Come back in the morning and let me know how you slept."

Leslie smiled, thanked Phlox and left. On her way to the mess hall, she could have sworn that she heard a woman crying.

T'Pol looked around as the lift finally came to a stop. They were in what seemed to be some kind of power plant. As they all stepped off, T'Pol examined her surroundings. There were power generators lining each wall from one end of the chamber to the other. The chamber extended for almost one thousand meters. There was a grove in the ceiling that looked as though it might have opened into a chamber above them. They were on a long catwalk that went from the lift, down the center of the chamber to a door. There were no stairs off of the catwalk.

Of all of them, only Tir did not seem interested by her surroundings. There was nothing really remarkable about this power plant except its sheer size, and the fact that there wasn't a speck of dust. As they all began to walk forward, the lift began to raise back to the city. Only Travis and Robert seemed concerned. Hoshi was just as drawn to the end of the catwalk as Tir and T'Pol was. It took them several minutes to reach the door, which didn't look like any door that they had seen in the city. Indeed this door looked as common as any other door. One might have found this door in some high school on Earth.

No one moved. "Well, who opens it?" That was Hoshi. She had become quite bold in the passing years. T'Pol could remember a time when Hoshi was afraid to stand thirty feet from the warp core. T'Pol reached out as though she expected to find her own quarters on the other side and opened the door. On the other side was a long, narrow corridor that seemed to have no end.

All five of them passed through the door and into the corridor. Hoshi began to look sick, but pressed on anyway. T'Pol was well aware of Hoshi's claustrophobia. She always seemed to overcome her fears though. She was clearly overcoming them now. As they walked, the crying started again, but this time T'Pol could make out words. She heard a title. It was the Custodian. She heard the crying voice say that the Preservers must be heard.

Who were the Preservers? HURRY! The sudden call had startled T'Pol. She saw no point in running. She would wear herself out in doing so long before reaching the end of this corridor. She did pick up the pace to a normal walking speed. Robert looked uncertain and nervous. "Do you think we should be rushing into this? I mean, what's going on? How do we know that this weird voice isn't leading us into some kind of trap?"

T'Pol was totally unconcerned. "It does not matter. I have strong reason to believe that there are answers at the end of this hallway to many questions. I want them." Robert admired T'Pol's drive but wondered where she would lead them. Nearly half an hour had passed before they reached the end of the hallway. T'Pol was now certain that she would not have the opportunity to have her discussion with Tir until they were back on Enterprise.

The hallway opened into another chamber. It appeared to be some kind of warehouse. There wasn't anything they could use. It was mostly artwork. Travis looked the chamber up and down and let out a low whistle. "Not that I don't appreciate the sites, but does this labyrinth ever end?"

T'Pol decided an appropriate response. It was a Vulcan proverb that she responded with. "For all things, there is an end." These words had some dark connotations, but they also inspired hope. Hoshi and Travis wanted Captain Archer back. Robert, who had been a friend of Archer in the NX program, hoped that he was okay as well.

Travis spoke before he could stop himself. "I think I read that on a fortune cookie once."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "It is a simple fact that all sentient life must come to terms with at one point or another."

Robert looked around and then addressed the group. "I feel like a rat in a maze. I hope we find the end to this place soon. I do not like it here."

T'Pol looked back in amusement. "It would not be prudent to complain about our situation. Humans have a proverb as well. 'Opportunity knocks, but once'."

"Well, I have a habit of not answering the door. I've found that that keeps me out of unnecessary trouble."

Tir, who had been silent during the entire time, startled everyone when she spoke. "'Missed opportunity is misfortune.'" For Vulcans, it was yet another of their proverbs. For humans, it was an axiom.

Robert, Travis and Hoshi were getting sick of all of the clich phrases. When T'Pol spoke again, they were grateful to hear that she wasn't quoting anything. "We are all on a quest for knowledge. It is a shame that some are not as enthusiastic in that quest as others." It may as well have been a clich. It certainly sounded like something that someone famous would say.

Robert had nothing to say to this. The fact was that she was right. He was being cynical. He decided to think of this as a learning experience. Whatever lay ahead, they would deal with it. They would endure. They would overcome. He was quickly developing a great deal of respect for Commander T'Pol. He couldn't help it. There was a strength to her that simply could not be ignored. He wanted to be Captain of the NX-04. In spite of all of his desires, he found that he would be willing to follow this Vulcan.

Hoshi began to raise her hand to her eye, but stopped midway. The fact that she had to wear this patch longer than initially intended was enough of a deterrent, but aside from that; Phlox had frightened her with his warnings of blindness and the loss of the eye. With her one functional eye, she examined a portrait of a woman. She stopped momentarily to take in the detail. The woman was thin. Her eyes set into deep sockets. Her hairline came to a sharp widow's peak that flowed seamlessly into a ridge that extended to a ridiculously straight and thin nose. Her mouth was thin and small. Hoshi presumed this to be an Ionian woman, although from her own readings she knew that Iona was comprised of numerous races.

Travis was absolutely fascinated by his surroundings. He couldn't see the other side of this massive warehouse, but it was packed to the ceiling with what appeared to be all cultural artifacts. There was ornate clothing that had clearly been tailored strictly for high-society social functions. There were stacks of books. Paintings and sculptures were piled high. Tapestries and carpets were neatly rolled and packed into shelf racks that were sporadically placed. A museum curator would think that he had died and gone to Heaven.

T'Pol took in her surroundings carefully. Anyone could make a career out of a single fifteen-foot area of this place. People have killed for treasure the likes of this. What amazed T'Pol was that nobody had ever found this place. This area was completely undisturbed. If anybody had found this place, it would be empty by now. Had a thief or treasure hunter found this place, he or she would be rich beyond the wildest dreams of the richest man in history. None of this really mattered to T'Pol except for its historical relevance. She was here in search of wealth of a different kind. Indeed, there are many that realize that knowledge is the greatest wealth of all.


	3. Chapter 3

Leslie stepped into her quarters and approached her bunk. She could feel the sedative kicking in. She sat on her unmade bed for a moment before finally lying down, still in full uniform. She had no idea how exhausted she really was. She knew that people could die from lack of sleep, and the sudden warmth that spread across her muscles told her that her body at least felt like dying. She had felt like this every night since the insomnia began, but for the first time she actually felt relaxed.

She closed her eyes, this time certain that she would not open them until well into the morning. She suddenly felt a jolt of energy. Apparently that sedative still needed some time to work. She opened her eyes, but instead of seeing the bottom of the top bunk, she saw a pale blue sky. Was she dreaming? It didn't feel like it. She felt wide-awake and didn't feel tired at all. That was a first, since the death of the one person that she had loved most.

She instantly found herself in Janice's arms, locked in a passionate embrace. She couldn't see Janice on account of her proximity, but she knew that it was she. She knew what Janice's lips felt like against hers. Leslie had kissed Janice like this once before. It had been in a quiet corner of the academy grounds, some time after classes when everyone else was studying in their dormitories. It had been curiosity on both of their parts. It had never happened again because neither of them had any real interest in a relationship of this nature with a member of the opposite sex. In spite of that fact, Leslie had found herself wishing that that kiss had led to something a bit more intimate. She remembered finding the kiss more enjoyable than any kiss that she had shared with anyone else.

They had spent nearly twenty minutes locked in that kiss. This was her friend. She was like a sister. No matter how much Leslie had wanted to express her love for Janice in this fashion, she couldn't. The kiss had been delightful, but any romance would had have effectively ended that friendship. Certainly, if that romance had endured, a new friendship would have entered into its place, but the old one would be gone forever. She didn't want that.

She gently pulled from Janice's lips. She expected to see the woman that she had known since they were children. She expected to see the woman that she had made love to at the age of nineteen. Instead she saw the corpse that had been on Phlox's bed. Leslie thought this was another nightmare, but upon observing the expression on the dead Janice's face, she realized that it wasn't. She started to cry at the broken image of the woman that she would have instantly traded places with.

"Don't cry." The ghost before her changed back to the warm living person that Leslie had loved so much. "Janice loved you as much as you loved her. You would have died had it not been for her. James was on his way to kill you. Janice knew this in the end and she was glad that her sacrifice spared your life."

Leslie was surprised to hear this. "How did Janice know what James was going to do?"

"Before she died, I told her. She told me that she would die before she let harm come to you. She said that she would endure any misery so long as you were safe. I had not expected James to return and complete his work, but I saw you holding onto Janice in her final moments. In spite of her pain, she was glad that you were there with her. I went to her one last time as she died, and she told me that you were her one true friend. She told me that if I could, to give you her happiest memory of her friendship."

Leslie felt tears welling in her eyes. "It was the kiss."

"Yes, but in spite of the promise I made to her, which I have fulfilled, that is not why am here. Janice wanted me to tell you how much she loved you that she wanted me to tell you goodbye for her. This, I have done, and now I come to the task at hand. Aside from your affection for one another, you and she shared one other thing in common. It is a very special gift that very few humans are blessed with. It allows you to see things that others of your species cannot. It is what allowed me to contact her. It is what allows me to communicate with you."

Leslie couldn't help be curious. She now knew that this was more than a dream. "Who are you?"

"The question is not who so much as what. I am the Custodian. I am a very powerful computer from deep below the Ionian City that four of your comrades and one of the Tavris are now exploring. I have been constructed and programmed with the ability to reach into the minds of others, but I can only telepathically communicate with those of similar abilities. I have activated this area of your brain, and amplified your ability.

"This is only temporary, and you will no longer be able to communicate telepathically once you have carried out the task that I have chosen you for. With time and practice however, you may be able to once again. You are aware of the seriousness of recent events. The abduction of Captain Jonathan Archer has had a significant effect on the proper flow of time. This must be corrected. Archer must return to Enterprise. Though he is displaced in time, I can help you to contact him. Will you agree to carry out this task?"

Leslie nodded. "Yes."

"Janice told me that you could be relied upon. I sense in your mind that this is true."

"What has to happen here?"

"Archer is not where you would be able to reach him under normal circumstances. I have been designed to transcend knowledge and dimension, as you would understand it. With my help, you may be able to reach him."

"What do I tell him when I find him?"

"Your potential is undisciplined, and due to the fact that I activated it rather than allow it to evolve, only temporary. Furthermore, your abilities do not allow you to locate Archer under these conditions. If he were nearby, then perhaps you could. He has been removed from time. Your ability does not transcend time. Mine does. You would be using me as a conduit. In other words, you would be using your abilities to access my abilities. It would be my abilities in turn, which allow you to contact Captain Archer. You would not be able to communicate with him, but you would experience what he does."

Leslie regarded Custodian/Janice closely. Leslie was now certain that this was not a dream. She wondered if this qualified as being asleep at the very least. She needed sleep desperately, but she also wanted to do her part in getting Archer back. "What are we waiting for?"

A delighted smile lit Custodian/Janice's face. "In that case, let us proceed."

Leslie turned to observe her new surroundings. She was in a bare room with a bed that appeared to be designed specifically for posture-pedic purposes. There was a chair in the middle of the room. "Welcome."

Leslie jumped at the sound of the woman's hidden voice. She turned to what appeared to be a camera and said, "Where am I?" It wasn't her voice. It was a man's voice. It was harsh and raspy. It was powerful and full of authority. It was Archer's voice.

"You are in the Paris, France division of Starfleet Command."

Leslie found herself perplexed. "We don't have a Paris, France division."

"No, you do not. It will not be established until the early twenty-third century."

That was even more perplexing. How could she be in a place that hadn't even been built? "Okay, when am I, then?"

"The time is 1400 hours on July 7th in the year 3021."

The woman said everything monotonously. It was as though she were some kind of computer. There was only one species that Leslie knew of that spoke like that. "You don't sound very French."

"I should hope not. I am not even human."

Archer was clearly thinking along the same lines as Leslie. "You're Vulcan."

"Very good, Captain Archer, but I think that it is time that you began asking questions that are of relevance."

Archer and Leslie knew exactly what they wanted to ask. "Why am I here?"

"You are here because we don't seem to be able to return you to your own time."

"And why not?"

"A temporal incursion has resulted in a ripple effect throughout time that you appear to be apart of. Your body seems to be resisting our temporal displacement technology."

"How can you not send me back through time if you brought me here?"

"We did not bring you here, and the reason that our temporal field is unable to return you can only be because of the aforementioned ripple effect. A temporal disruption has occurred that seems to be preventing us from accessing the twenty-second century."

"I'll buy that for now. If you didn't bring me here then who did?"

"The Bindu. They are terrorists in this temporal cold war, which you are now undoubtedly aware of due to your dealings with the Suliban and another terrorist whom you know as Daniels. Although these people are attempting to preserve the timeline, they are using overly aggressive and violent methods that are unacceptable and potentially destructive. We managed to retrieve you from the Bindu, but they escaped as our attention was focused on you."

"Why did the Bindu bring me here?"

"We do not believe that they intended to. Our temporal scans showed that at the time of their attack on Enterprise, they were being pursued by the Tholians. The Tholians are a silicone-based species who in your time period have already developed the technology for time travel. It is due to their technological superiority that they, to this very day, remain isolationists that go far beyond the point of xenophobic. We assume that the Bindu did not take the time to thoroughly determine the content of their transport for fear of capture or destruction."

"If I'm stranded here, and you have no way to get me back, then what does that mean for the twenty-second century?"

"The timeline may be irreparably compromised. Our only hope is that your first officer determines exactly what has transpired, and takes the necessary actions to resolve the situation. We are doing everything in our power to assist her but all of our efforts may not be enough."

"Is there anything we can do from here?"

"All we can really do is continue with our investigation and try and determine whether or not it is possible to remedy this situation by determining exactly how it transpired."

"You said that Daniels was a terrorist."

"Many factions are attempting to change the timeline. Many other factions, including the one that employs the Suliban and the one that Daniels belongs are trying to protect the timeline. None of these factions agree on how to proceed. The fact is that their methods will do greater harm than good. Had Daniels been a member of Starfleet, he never would have approached you. You never would have known."

Leslie considered all that had been said. Archer paused for what seemed an eternity. "So where do we go from here?"

"We must be patient. We cannot risk revealing any more to you than we already have. More comfortable quarters are being prepared, but let us handle this. As officers of Starfleet temporal affairs, we are trained for this kind of situation. Also, allowing you to become involved in our operation could contaminate the timeline."

"So I just sit here and wait."

"Unfortunately, yes. I am aware that you prefer to be involved in your own fate. It is a trait that does you credit, but for now, I ask that you set aside your pride."

"Okay, but I'm not going to just sit here forever."

"We do not ask that you do. We ask that you only be patient. This situation is serious and quite unprecedented, but my colleagues and I are confident that we will be able to resolve it within a respectable time frame."

"One more question: who are you?"

"My name is S'Vara."

After what seemed an eternity, they finally reached the end of the warehouse. Hoshi and Robert were beginning to complain of hunger and sore feet, and although T'Pol was in no discomfort, she agreed to stop. All three humans sat. Travis opened a container that contained a variety of foods. T'Pol wondered why real produce had been brought on an away mission, but decided not to ask. She was well aware of the crew's dislike of the c-rations. They weren't even potable for Vulcans.

Tir was clearly not hungry either. She and T'Pol began to browse the various contents of the warehouse. As Robert, Hoshi, and Travis began lunch, Tir and T'Pol found themselves alone and well out of earshot of even Hoshi. T'Pol made certain that she stayed close to Tir. "You have been unusually quite. I wonder if perhaps you are too focused on the majesty of this city to insult me."

"I apologize for my comment and overall tone of voice over the commlink yesterday evening. What is it that humans say? 'Old habits die hard'."

"You have never apologized for anything. I now know that something is wrong."

"People change, T'Pol. I am sorry for many things."

"Mainly yourself, I would imagine. You always had the ability to look directly at a person and never really see him or her." Tir said nothing. "All you ever saw was competition. You saw an obstacle to be vaulted. When you failed to vault me, you resorted to humiliating me. You have never apologized for anything. The only logical conclusion can be that something has happened to you."

Tir inclined her head. "What do you think has happened to me?"

"I have seen the way in which you don't really look at the person to whom you're speaking. I have seen the scar on the side of your head. I have seen how you don't really see the path on which you walk." T'Pol paused for a moment to let the weight of her words sink in. If what she suspected was true, then Tir had better hope that the Vulcan High Command never finds out. "I believe that you are blind." Tir seemed to tense. "I do not mean that figuratively."

"Before I took command of the Tavris, I was in San Francisco. There was an earthquake and I suffered a head injury."

"How did this disability escape the knowledge of the doctor who treated you?"

"It didn't. He was killed in an aftershock. I studied all of my senses. I learned how to create the illusion of sight for others, which you seem to have noticed that I have not mastered. I have become quite adept at it. I have learned to determine location by listening to sound. I have learned to effectively focus my eyes towards the source of that sound so that it appears that I am watching."

"This is because you are aware that your career would end should the High Command ever become aware that you are hiding a disability."

"Yes. Blindness disqualifies me from most functions within the High Command, including service on a starship."

"To that end, your chances for success would end."

"No, T'Pol. You never really saw me either. I didn't want success. I simply wanted to be accepted by my brethren."

"Explain."

"I was born substandard. I was fortunate that I was able to achieve Kolinahr. Have you achieved Kolinahr?"

"No. Although that is one of my goals for my own growth, I have not yet attempted to face the trials. I thought you merely hid your emotions."

"No, I do not. I merely do not keep as tight a leash on them as most Vulcans. I've learned that emotions can be a valuable asset. They are a part of us, T'Pol. They are a part of us that no matter how much we repress them, we shall never be free of them. It is illogical to deny them. What Surak taught was more than repression, but complete control over them. That means that we must be able call upon them on a moments notice and reign them back in just as quickly."

"I have heard other Vulcans speak like this."

"You speak of the melder ship you encountered during Enterprise's first year and their ridiculous claims of equilibrium. No that is not what I speak of. I speak of the ability to activate and deactivate your emotions as though they were some devices that were created by the hands of man. That is the very meaning of control, though many Vulcans do not understand this. Control, by its very nature, allows you to do as you please without danger or risk. This talk of equilibrium is meaningless tripe."

"You believe you can control your emotions to this extent."

"That is a ridiculous concept. Nobody is perfect, T'Pol. I would be foolish to believe that I have that kind of control over my emotions, but I believe that it is possible within reason. Emotions are the very reason we undergo the Kolinahr. They are the reason we repress them, and thus they are the reason that our civilization is what it is today. This indicates that were it not for emotion, we would not be what we are. For everything there is an explanation, for every rhyme a reason and for every action an equal and positive reaction."

"So we have our emotions to thank for everything we have become as much as we have them to thank for everything we once were. I see the logic."

"Since losing my sight, my vision has cleared. I see things differently now. I see the truth. I see why you stand the silent hero while I remain the loyal pawn of a stubborn and narrow-minded government. I am small and never realized it. I always thought of you as small, and I realize that I was right. The difference between you and me is that you understood how small all of us truly were and I did not. This is why many Vulcans silently praise you for your loyalty to Enterprise and Archer. Oh, yes, the people of Vulcan look up to you, T'Pol, though you may never have realized it.

"Your understanding made you bigger than both of us."

T'Pol wasn't sure of how to respond, so she let Tir's words pass without acknowledgment. "Tell me about Lutia."

"She is a truly skilled engineer. She was unfortunately born with a chemical imbalance that does not allow her to completely repress her emotions. It is for this reason that she occasionally suffers periods of emotional imbalance. When this happens, Renik simply asks her to observe her fellow Vulcans. I am not certain what he hopes to accomplish in this, though I believe that in this instance he ordered her to do this specifically so he could bring her to Enterprise. When this period passes, he will be able to return her to her duties and he has always considered her a valuable asset to his staff."

That explained a great deal. She would be certain to inform Trip upon her return. "That is all I wanted to know."

As T'Pol turned to leave, Tir said, "I talked to my brother, recently. He said that he sent you a letter to which you replied. He was not pleased by the response, but he said that he accepted your decision."

"I do not correspond with Tok often."

"I know. You only met him four times, but you always used to correspond with him. Ever since you asked our family to postpone your wedding to my brother, your correspondence with my brother has thinned a great deal. I understand. Your request of postponement did not meet with my mother very well. Tok says that he is not displeased with you. You realize that he is drawing very near to his first pon farr. Have you told Commander Tucker about that?"

"Why would I tell Commander Tucker about pon farr?"

"You are in a relationship with him. It would seem logical to inform him of any possible complications."

"What makes you think that I am in a relationship with Commander Tucker?"

"I'm not as nave as you think I am. Every word he says to you and the manner in which you respond speaks volumes."

"No, I have not told him."

"Don't you think that you should, considering Tok?"

"What does Tok have to with it?"

"You're not that nave either, T'Pol. You know our ways. Vulcan females feel the blister of pon farr once in their lives, but Vulcan males must endure it every seven years. You know that Tok will challenge him for your hand."

"I did not know that I had so little time."

"Could Trip survive a Vulcan who is going through this time of amok? Could he withstand the rage of the blood fever? Don't you think that you should tell him?"

"Perhaps I have waited long enough."

"T'Pol, I have a confession to make. I have always liked you. Commander Tucker must understand what his future holds if he is to be with you."

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because I understand why I am where I am and what I am."

"Yes, you have told me."

"And so you think that you know."

"The acquisition of knowledge has always been a driving force in all sentient beings."

"No. It has not. The quest for the acquisition of knowledge has always been a driving force in all sentient beings."

"I do not understand."

"What is it that you think you know? Do you know that information and fact is an ever-changing variable? It is that which is never the same from moment to moment. Information and fact becomes obsolete on a day to day basis. It is never same. Yesterday's information no longer applies to today's understanding. Why do people no longer learn as they grow? They do learn. They are simply too stubborn to accept new information and fact.

"Knowledge is the cause of this. It is the accumulation of information and the refusal to alter that information. The wisest man alive knows only that he knows nothing. Knowledge is the colorful illusion that stifles growth and life. It is knowledge that determines that something is impossible. It is knowledge that says that this could never happen. The mind filled with knowledge is demolished when it learns that the impossible is quite possible. Always remember the Vulcan proverb that states that life is an infinite universe of infinite possibility. Knowledge is a cancer that stunts the growth of all living things. Never trust it."

T'Pol stood for a moment in wonder. Had she misinterpreted Tir's reactions in their initial communication? It became clear to T'Pol that Tir was no longer her rival. She looked over to what appeared to be a diagram of what was presumably the Ionian brain. There were labels for each section of the brain. It looked very similar to an eighteenth-century diagram of the human brain. T'Pol looked down to the far end of the row to see that Hoshi, Travis and Robert had finished eating and were now waiting for them. "We should continue."

Only a day had passed and Renik's team, with the assistance of Trip's own staff, already had the impulse manifold online. Trip and several members of his team had just restored the EPS grid. Now Renik wanted to start on the nacelles. An hour or so ago, Renik had assigned Lutia to analyze the energy discharge that had compromised their EPS manifolds in the first place. Trip, for his part, realized that he owed Renik an apology.

For the moment, he needed to spend some quality time with Porthos. T'Pol, in spite of her feelings towards keeping pets, had decided to take care of the poor guy. With her in the city, and still without word, Porthos was going to need a substitute. Ensign Cutler had taken Porthos for a walk earlier that day. Now Trip was providing the beagle with a much-deserved dinner.

Fifteen minutes passed before Trip had to return to the bridge to perform his duties as acting captain. As he walked to the bridge, he saw himself walking on a knife's edge. T'Pol had gone down to the city this morning and now Enterprise was well into its night shift. He needed a few minutes on the bridge to perform his final duties for the day. After that, he was off to bed for what sleep he could get.

"Status, Lieutenant Mitchell?" Trip looked over at the young officer. He was a regular part of gamma shift, and as such was rarely seen during the day. Trip looked and saw that Hickman was back on duty, although she had a support strap on her knee, most likely to prevent further damage as it continued to heal.

"Silent running all night, Sir. There's nothing on sensors. No reports have been filed except the standard." Mitchell had always been a down-to-business kind of guy. He was always very matter of fact. He probably would have been well liked in the Navy.

"Any news from the away team?"

"Still nothing, sir."

Gregson at his console flagged everyone's attention. "I'm getting something from the planet. It isn't much, but it has Commander T'Pol's communicator frequency."

"Let's have it." Trip was afraid that he might have sounded a bit desperate. No one seemed to notice. It could have been interpreted as a combination of relief and concern.

Gregson booted the communications array. "Th...away team...we're...right...seems...mineral in the walls of...disrupt...signal...have encountered no problems. We are continuing...We...keep...updated. Do not attempt to respond. Your signal...not...through. T'Pol out."

Trip breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Post this in ship's general log. Mitchell, carry on. I'm going to call it a night." As Trip left the bridge, he heard several officers calling good night. It certainly would be, now that he knew that everyone was okay. As he stepped off of the turbo lift, he almost walked into Malcolm. "I thought that you were in bed."

Malcolm yawned and said, "I would have been, but Sopek wanted my help in realigning the targeting scanners. Don't Vulcans ever sleep?"

"Not as much as humans do. They don't eat as much either. We just heard from T'Pol. Everybody's okay. The transmission was a little garbled but it sounded like T'Pol said that some kind of mineral was preventing clear communications. She said that transceiver wouldn't be able to cut through the interference, which makes me wonder how a dinky little communicator got through."

"Maybe they found a tight little corridor for their signal that would be harder to locate from orbit."

"Whatever the reason, we were at least able to confirm that it was T'Pol. Have you finished helping Sopek?"

"No. I need to go up to the bridge for a few minutes to send him a series of tactical scans. The last time that aligned those sensors, it took days. I hope Sopek has better luck than I did. Also, the shields that Starfleet installed last year don't seem to be entirely compatible with the EPS grid. Rin says that he's having trouble allocating energy to them."

"We got those back on line yesterday."

"Yes, but there seems to some interference from the impulse manifold. Starfleet corp. of engineers apparently did some tricky alignments to get them to work. Rin says that he won't actually need help until tomorrow. He still has some readings to take, and he still has to confer with Renik."

"Good, because one way or another, I'm getting some sleep."

"Well, I won't keep you. Good night, sir."

Leslie couldn't really tell where she was. She slowly looked around and realized that she was safe and sound in her dorm. She realized that she had quantum mechanics in a few minutes and that if she didn't hurry, she was going to be late. She grabbed her books, threw them in her satchel, threw on her uniform and bolted out the door. She couldn't be late again. She had already been late four times this month, and Commander Parker was threatening a week's worth of write-ups.

She was halfway to her class when she realized that she was actually going to be on time. "Hey, Melissa!" Leslie spun around and her stomach began to churn. It was Carol and a bunch of her Carol-ette's. "Where are you off to in such a hurry, Bluewolf?"

Leslie gave the most logical answer she could think of. "Class."

"Oh, you should have majored in astrophysics. That way, you would get this hour off with us."

"Why would I even want anything to do with you?"

Carol smiled widely. It looked almost sadistic. "Wake up!" Huh? Why did she say that? "You and me could be friends and then we wouldn't have to screw with you all the time."

"If you and I were friends, I think that I'd slit my wrists." This was met with some laughter and a stern look from Carol. "Why do have to screw with me at all?"

"'Cause you're a little shit, that's why."

"Oh, that's interesting. I always thought that the reason you did it is because you're the shit." There was chime signaling the start of class. Leslie cursed audibly.

Carol had a determined look on her face. "Little Bluewolf wants to get to class. Let's educate her."

Carol and four of her friends approached. The last thing she needed was to have fighting on her record. Of course five against one would probably be enough to get her out of trouble. Carol and her friends were going to learn not to mess with an Apache. As Carol took a swing, Leslie swung her satchel out, striking Carol squarely on the side of the head. One of the other friends who had jumped her said, "Come on, Leslie. Wake up." Who the hell is Leslie?

Leslie spun hard avoiding the attack of two others, drove her fist into the jaw of one of them and the satchel hard into the stomach of the other. Her foot effectively dropped another that had come from behind. She could hear people running. Several officers were coming and the remainder of Carol's friends whom chose not to participate scattered. All of the officers were shouting for them to stop. One shouted, "Wake up." Why would he say that?

The last girl ignored the approaching officers and slugged Leslie hard in the cheek. It would take more than that to stop her. Leslie felt the remaining attackers nose shatter as she head butted her. Her quantum mechanics teacher, whose class she was late for, grabbed Leslie and pulled her back. "What the hell is going on?"

Leslie, hot with anger, said, "They jumped me on the way to class. I didn't have a way out." She could feel her mouth filling with blood from where her cheek had been driven into her teeth. Tears of anger filled her eyes as she watched her five attackers slowly and painfully climb to their feet.

Commander Parker looked at Carol, who had a red welt going from the center of her forehead, curving around right eye and ending at her jaw and said, "Is that true?"

Carol fixed Leslie with a hard stare and said, "No, we were on our way to class when she lost it. Wake up." Why did everyone keep saying that?

Leslie was furious. Blood was now trickling down her chin. "That's a load of crap. They don't even have class right now."

Commander Parker looked from Leslie to Carol and said, "Let me see your schedule." It was Carol's turn to be furious as she pulled a PADD out of her own bag and handed it to the Commander. The Commander suddenly pulled a bottle of water out of his bag, opened the cap and threw the contents on Leslie's face. Parker turned into Melissa Bluewolf, who was holding a small pitcher. The halls of Starfleet Academy turned into her quarters on Enterprise. Leslie gradually remembered who she was, and where she was. She was soaked.

Melissa wore an expression of relief. "I've been trying to get you up for fifteen minutes."

Leslie took in her surroundings and noticed the chronometer. She had been asleep for seventeen hours. She observed her friend. There was a barely noticeable scar on her cheek. "That scar on your cheek."

Melissa was taken aback. "Most people don't notice it. What about it?"

"You got it when Carmen Mendoza hit you there after she and Carol Falkner attacked you." Melissa was stunned. She didn't say anything. "You said that you'd slit your wrists if you ever wound up being friends with them. They had made you late for class but under the circumstances, Commander Parker let you off. After the fight, Carol, Carmen, and three others were suspended for a month. When they came back, they apologized to you and they started to hang out with you."

Melissa stammered a bit and finally said, "How the hell did you know that? Did you hear someone talking about it? I know we were at the Academy around the same time, but I don't think we ever met."

"I dreamed about it, just now."

Melissa was beginning to freak out. "What do you mean you dreamed about it?"

Leslie explained what had happened the previous afternoon in Phlox's office. She knew that she was supposed to remember something else, but she couldn't. She got the feeling that it was something very important. She got the feeling that it had something to do with Captain Archer.

She realized that she was late for her duty shift, changed into a fresh uniform, thanked Melissa for waking her up, and bolted out of her quarters. Soon, Leslie darted onto the bridge. As she was beginning to apologize, Commander Tucker stopped her and said, "It's okay. I talked to Doctor Phlox and Lieutenant Sagura this morning. From what they said, and from the amount of sleep I know you've been getting, I figured you'd have a tough time waking up." Leslie breathed a sigh of relief. "Besides, you've never been late before. Take your post, Ensign."

Leslie relieved the exhausted Ensign Hickman. With Travis on the planet and every other pilot otherwise engaged, Hickman had been the only one left to fill in for Leslie. At her station, she realized that they had restored impulse since she had been relieved the previous day. Although the death of Janice was still making her miserable, she found that for the most part, she no longer felt so lethargic. Sleep seemed to be just what the doctor ordered.

T'Pol had led the away team into another narrow passage. This one had tall ceilings however and seemed to be brightly lit. An emotion invaded her senses before she could repress it and she realized that they must have been getting close. This entity was clearly telepathic and was now transmitting emotions. This could not possibly have been the computer that Hoshi described.

The passage opened into a brightly-lit chamber that was unlike anything any of them had seen. This was so different as to be the technology of another civilization. The woman who had been crying said in T'Pol's mind, "Yes, you're quite right." The room was entirely crystalline. There were what were clearly machines that had been constructed entirely out of crystal. They were on a high stairway leading down to a raised pathway, which led to a pedestal. There was something on the pedestal, though nobody could determine what.

Time seemed to stand still as the five approached the pedestal, all the while admiring the unnatural splendor of this crystal cavern. They came to another stairway leading to the top of the pedestal. As they came to the top, they saw something that none of them ever expected to see. A girl, who appeared to be in her late teens, sat with her back to them. She had her arms wrapped around herself. She was dressed in exquisite white silk. She slowly stood and turned to face them. She regarded each of them. She wore an expression of great sadness.

T'Pol stepped forward. "Who are you?"

The girl regarded T'Pol's question curiously. She spoke with an amazingly beautiful accent that sounded like a cross between English and Hindu. "I am called Custodian, though I do not have a name. A more appropriate question for you to ask might be 'what are you'. I am the custodian of the Ionian Empire. Although I was not constructed here or am in any part Ionian or of Ionian manufacture, I am all that remains of this culture."

"If you are not Ionian, then what?"

"I was placed here by the Preservers."

Hoshi stepped forward. "Who are the Preservers?"

"Nobody really knows. I have been programmed with limited information about them, but I was activated after being left here, so know nothing of them except that information with which I was programmed." She looked apologetic.

T'Pol continued, "Tell us what you do know of the Preservers."

"The Preservers span all of existence, they have lived so long that they have forgot what it is to be mortal. They have dedicated their existence to the preservation of other cultures. When they see a people on the brink of oblivion, they take measures to save that culture. They take a group of people from their home world and transport them to another, where they might escape annihilation. Sometimes, they employ these measures on a planet that somehow manages to survive. They do not reintegrate the transplanted people in the event that their culture's survival is short lived.

"They have done this with Earth several times. There are at least eight human Preserver colonies throughout the galaxy. The are also many Vulcan Preserver colonies. In the case of Iona, the Preservers saw that no matter what they did, they had no way of saving this culture, as they had evolved to oblivion, so I was created to ensure that they were not forgotten. My task was to preserve this city and their memory. There are others like me in the Ionian cities in the other galaxies. Beyond that, I know little else of the Preservers."

Robert looked as though his words had become solid objects that would not leave his throat. "Then this city is a museum."

T'Pol interjected, "If you know so little of the Preservers, then how do you know of Earth and Vulcan?"

"The Preservers possess information that transcends time and normal awareness. I was programmed with Preserver wisdom."

Tir spoke now. "To be wise, and to be programmed with wisdom are two different things."

"So they would be, if I were a mere computer. In the Preserver colonies that hold living individuals, there is a simple computer mainframes. Some are androids. None are like me. I am more than a machine. Indeed, I am more than a program. I am alive. If you saw those paintings the warehouse, you would know that I was built with an Ionian appearance."

Travis had been curious. He had had a slight explanation from Hoshi, but he wanted a certain answer. "How did the myth of the Ionian Empire survive for eight million years?"

Custodian smiled. "Because I forced it to. I sent pieces of evidence all across the galaxy, knowing that some of it would be found. I do this quite often, actually and will undoubtedly have to do it again. Now, you know the questions that you seek answers too. Ask them."

T'Pol had many questions. "What happened to the people of Iona?"

"They evolved, or they died. The Preservers were not certain. These are not the answers you seek. You ponder on the fate of Captain Archer. Ask your questions."

Robert looked as though he would jump out of his skin. "How do you know about that?"

T'Pol turned back to Robert. "She has already answered that question. She possesses knowledge that transcends time."

Custodian looked at Robert. "And knowledge of time transcends understanding. I am more than a machine. I am a history, and a future, but then there are so many possible futures. The future that I perceive is the end of time itself. The vital role that Captain Archer plays in the progression of the drama of existence has been compromised. Archer's removal from this time period came at crucial moment in the temporal cold war. The result was what may an irreversible temporal disruption that may cause a collapse in the very fabric of space/time."

Robert was skeptical. "So what? You're precognant?"

"I was programmed to be so. I sense your tone of voice. You should be aware that I am not limited to the boundaries of my program. I am as alive as you are. I am as sentient as you are. I am as emotional as you are, and thus can be as perilous as you."

Robert's head cocked at an angle. "Are you resorting to threatening us?"

"No. I'm telling you."

T'Pol turned to Robert. "There is no need to be confrontational."

Robert fixed T'Pol with an incredulous look. "So you're just buying all of this."

"I am not buying anything, but we must consider all possible explanations. The information that she is providing cannot be verified, however..."

Tir finished. "There is also no way to disprove what Custodian claims."

"It is the only information we have and in the absence of contradictory information, our only logical would be pursue the course that this information sets us on."

Robert shook his head in amusement. "I'm sorry, but Starfleet likes a little more than 'there is no evidence to the contrary'."

"Robert, you know so little of Starfleet procedure. 'There is no evidence to the contrary' is easily interpreted as 'no other options'. With limited information, Starfleet procedure is to investigate the validity of any claim until proven or disproven."  
"I think that Admiral Forrest would disagree with you."

"It is unwise to voice that particular opinion as I have already had discussions with Admiral Forrest similar to this one on numerous occasions to discover that he is very much in agreement with me in this area of Starfleet policy. You can ask him yourself upon our return to Enterprise."

"Do you even know Starfleet's first priority?"

"Yes, 'to explore strange new worlds; to seek out new life and new civilizations; to boldly go where no man has gone before.' At least, that is what Admiral Forrest says. Such a doctrine requires that all possibilities be explored. You will also note that that doctrine is Enterprise's operational Miranda."

Custodian lost patience. "Do not bother with him. There is no way he will ever understand the complexities of the logic of any establishment. His mind is too small. He is a warrior and nothing more, but he is correct. I can offer you no proof, but T'Pol is also correct in the opinion that no contradiction can be offered. You have no choice but to believe me for the time being. Starfleet understands this. T'Pol understands this. Any true captain understands that information is accompanied with risk.

"The words which Tir spoke to T'Pol so clearly illustrated this. Information and fact is indeed an ever-changing variable. The risk is that I may be lying or my information may be inaccurate. I can only tell you that it is not, but that statement in and of itself is not proof. You can only proceed as planned and alter your plans should this information prove untrue."

T'Pol turned back to Custodian. "Where is Archer now?"

"He is in the early part of the thirty-first century. He is in the hands of Starfleet. He was rescued from the Bindu. That is the species that abducted him but for some reason Starfleet is unable to return him to this century. The knowledge I possess of time is limited to the proper timeline. It is by mere fortune that I was able to discover this information."

"And how did you discover this?"

"Living beings may have the ability for prescience; the ability to perceive all possible futures. I attempted to use a living being as a conduit to the future. Vulcan telepathy was not strong enough to achieve this, so I searched for another being with telepathic ability. I found that humans have no potential for telepathy except in rare instances. I found two individuals on Enterprise with telepathic potential that far exceeded that of any Vulcan.

"The first was a young woman named Janice Ray. Unfortunately, she was on the brink of death when I discovered her. The second person was quite healthy and I was successful in my attempts to use her as the conduit I required to locate Captain Archer in time/space. I linked her to Archer. She now experiences everything that he does, but only as she sleeps. The link will break when time has been properly realigned, but for the time being, her link to Archer is inexorable."

"Who is it that you have linked to Captain Archer?"

"A pilot by the name of Leslie Braddock. She was a rather close friend of Janice Ray to my understanding."

"So, if everything you have said is true, we will be able to track Captain Archer's movements."

"That is correct. Time is no longer a constant. It has suffered extreme damage by this incident. That damage threatens the very fabric of existence."

"I've had just about enough of this." Robert was on the verge of violence. "We have a psychic crewman on Enterprise. Captain Archer has been taken into the future. Write a book, lady. Don't feed us this load of bullshit."

T'Pol was becoming quite irritated. "Robert, shut up."

"I can't believe that you're actually listening to this."

"Robert, whether Custodian's claims are true or not is not at issue. In time, the truth will be determined. Even in a lie there is evidence to our advantage. There is useful information provided in every word of the witness of an event. We require all useful information that we can acquire. Furthermore, we do not know the capabilities of Custodian. For the moment, she is a benevolent being. Provoking her is an unnecessary and unwarranted risk. Be silent, and control your temper. That's an order. If you fail to follow that order, you will be arrested and charged."

"We're the same rank."

"And I hold seniority due to my current status on Enterprise and due to the fact that you are not a member of its crew."

"I apologize. I didn't mean to be rude, or confrontational. I just can't believe that Captain Archer has been taken into the future. Even the Vulcan Science Directorate has concluded that time travel is not nor ever will be possible."

"I am well aware of the Vulcan Science Directorate's determination concerning that subject."

Custodian laughed. It was strange hear a being that was so clearly artificial so naturally express emotion. "That determination was the product of a lack of evidence concerning one theory being interpreted as an abundance of evidence pertaining to another. How could a mortal being possess knowledge enough about existence to determine anything? Such a determination is a blatant display of arrogance and superiority. It is not logical."

An almost imperceptible smile touched Tir's lips. Only T'Pol and Custodian noticed the un-Vulcan expression. "Our life and all of life is an infinite universe of infinite possibility."

"So consider the possibility that the abduction of Archer may mean the destruction of Earth, and ultimately Vulcan, as those two planet's fates are inseparably linked. Never has the continued existence of two people relied on one another more than that of humans and Vulcans. Never have any two planets been more important to the course of time. If Archer is not found then all of existence will shift so dramatically as to be a completely different realm than what it should be."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "You believe that I will fail to find Archer?"

"I believe that there are too many random elements to compute your possibility for success."

"I disagree. I believe that whatever the odds, even if there are no odds, I will find him. Perhaps the Bindu think that Captain Archer was their only concern. They will find that I am not so easily beaten."

"How can you find him when you do not even possess the capability to go where he has been taken? Your technology is not capable of it. It is possible to utilize nature to do so, but your ship is too primitive to withstand the force of natural time travel. Furthermore, it is not possible for one from the past to travel into the future under his or her own power as the future is by its very nature an uncertain and random element. The future is a collection of possibilities and when one temporal force collides with another, one future becomes two.

"The possibility of alternate realities is the only way that time travel could ever be possible as time travel itself is a collision of temporal forces. Time changes with each temporal act, and time prevents damage to itself by creating a new universe along the path of the temporal shift, in its effort to preserve the true timeline."

Hoshi almost shouted. "Wait a minute. You mean that there are actually alternate realities? There thousands of other versions of me and Travis and Commander T'Pol and Tir?" Hoshi felt a little lame repeating the words of Twentieth-Century science-fiction writers, but that was what the discussion had boiled down to.

"That is correct, although thousands may be too modest. Your science is only beginning to understand the forces of the universe. You have yet to imagine the true nature of the fabric of existence. As organic beings of limited life and intelligence, your awareness of the nature of that around you is infinitesimally minimal."

T'Pol raised both eyebrows and said, "As irritating as I find that comment, I am forced to agree. How then should we proceed?"

"If you do not have the means, you must find a way of acquiring it. There are two possibilities that are within your power to exercise."

Revelation struck T'Pol. She had been blind not to realize it. "The Suliban possess technology capable of communicating with the future. If we could acquire access to it, we may have a way of directly contacting Archer. Then there is the question of the secrets of Daniels quarters. If he was truly from the future, then in his quarters may be information that could enable us to modify the Suliban technology."

"Should you acquire that technology."

"When we acquire that technology," T'Pol corrected. "I plan to retrieve Captain Archer and I will not be impeded."


	4. Chapter 4

_August 4th, 2156: two days after the away team's return to Enterprise._

TRIP SAT ON THE MAIN CATWALK OF THE STARBOARD nacelle control room. He had been struggling with a panel for a few minutes before finally getting it loose. Inside were a series of power transfer regulators that sent plasma to warp field generators lining the bulkhead on either side of the catwalk. These were the last regulators that he had to replace. Renik's team had already finished replacing the warp field generators. Repairs were far from complete, but at least Enterprise would be at full power again.

Leslie Braddock had wanted to assist again, but after all that she had been through, Trip thought it was best that she stick to her regular duties for the time being. Under the dim bulb of his lamp, which he had hung from the ceiling of the nacelle housing, a shadow cast over him. He looked up to see Lutia. She had been assigned to the repair team working on the energy analysis. Either she had some time off, or she was finished.

"Mr. Tucker, I wanted to express my appreciation for your concern. Renik is one of the few people who have confidence in my abilities. It pleases me to know that there are others." This Lutia was quite different from the Vulcan Trip had met. He supposed that bashfulness was an emotion.

Trip smiled his million-dollar smile and said, "Don't worry about. I can't help but want to help when I see somebody having a problem." An ensign handed Trip a PADD and went into the main control room. Trip worked the last regulator loose and began turning the calipers to the open position. Only four days had passed since the Tavris' arrival. They were three days ahead of schedule. Trip was, needless to say, impressed. "You guys are going to be leaving tomorrow. Where are you headed?"

"Back to Signs. We have a standard security posting there." Lutia got that look on her face that T'Pol usually got when she had something smart-mouthed to say. "It is clear why T'Pol chose you as her mate. I find that I am touched by your strength of character. It was a privilege meeting you." Trip always did a double take at the "mate" part, but at least she wasn't being funny.

Trip smiled and said, "I'm not that great. I just try to do the right thing, but I usually just wind up screwing everything up."

"I know that you do not believe that. Everybody makes mistakes Commander Tucker. My assignment here is finished and I have told you what I had wished to tell you. Live long and prosper."

There was only one thing that Trip could think to say. "Peace and long life." Trip watched as Lutia headed out of the control room and down the ladder. He sat for a moment. None of the of the engineering crew in there seemed to notice his pause. He snapped out of it and returned to his work. As he positioned the new regulators, the calipers automatically returned to the closed position. He repositioned the last regulator. That was it. Warp drive had been completely restored. All he had to do was switch it back on. First he had to get his team out of the power feeds.

Leslie, Justin, Alex and Melissa sat at their usual table in mess hall. Leslie, to her dismay, was recounting her meeting with T'Pol for the millionth time. The mere mention of the name "Custodian" had been all that was required to jog her memory of the first dream of her seventeen hour slumber.

"Was it really Captain Archer?" Alex was somewhat creeped out by the whole telepathic scenario with his friend. From their earlier conversations, Leslie got the impression that he was taking his X-Men comics a bit too seriously.

"I don't know, but T'Pol said that my story corroborated her own version of events on the surface. She said that it was proof that Custodian was at least telling the truth about one thing."

Justin came out of his reverie. "I don't get it. How could a machine be telepathic?"

Melissa fielded this one. "The mind, the spirits and our souls. They are all forms of energy. Energy of any form can be manipulated. It is a question of learning how."

Alex looked up with a somber expression. "So if all that Custodian told you was true then, death really isn't the end, and Janice is..." It had been hard for all of them.

Leslie smiled slightly and said, "I look at it this way. We learn all of our lives. Life is a learning experience. If death is the end, then what did we spend all of that time learning for?"

Justin looked like he had another question. "The Custodian told T'Pol that because of the shift in time, she couldn't locate the Captain. She told you that you couldn't do it because you didn't have the ability. What's the deal here?"

"I asked T'Pol the same thing. She and I agreed that the Custodian was probably recovering from the shift in time and needed me to help her stabilize. Once she was able to send my awareness through time, she was also able to create the link with the Captain."

Melissa sat in wonder. She had been supportive of all of them. In the short time that they had all known her, she had truly been their friend. Leslie swore that she and Melissa would never be separated. Not even by death. Melissa looked up, reached up and felt the scar on the side of her cheek. "I haven't thought of Carol and Carmen in forever."

Leslie looked up and grinned. "They sure turned real friendly when you kicked their butt's."

Melissa laughed out loud. It was the first time that any of them had laughed since Janice died. Leslie thought that that was a good sign. Melissa's laugh didn't last longer however, but she now had a sly look to her that seemed more common place. "So, is this psychic thing permanent or what?"

"Custodian said that it isn't, although it could be if I wanted it to."

"I think that you should want it to. That would be cool."

"Ack! Every time I go to sleep, I see everyone else's memories. No, thank you."

Melissa looked around at everyone and smiled. "You know, for the first time in my life, I really feel like I belong. I feel like life has really just begun here. It is good. It reminds that things change. It reminds me that we should have faith, because things always work out. Sometimes it's sad. Sometimes it hurts, but the grass really is greener on the other side of the hill. Nothing ends. It only changes."

Leslie put a hand on Melissa's shoulder. "I'm glad we can go through those changes together, and I wish Janice could be here to go through those changes with us."

Under the surface of Deneb IV, there was an Ionian City of amazing wonders. T'Pol wondered of the most amazing of wonders that the Ionians never intended for their city. She wondered about the Preservers. They had to be a Type IV civilization. Very few people would know what that was as nothing of the sort had ever been speculated on. A Type I civilization was one that controlled the resources of an entire planet. A Type II civilization controlled the resources of an entire solar system. A Type III civilization controlled the resources of an entire galaxy.

All of these had been speculated on. The interesting piece of information was that this was the first time in history anyone had ever encountered a society more advanced than Type II. T'Pol wondered if any Type III civilizations controlled the Milky Way and if so, why had they never revealed themselves? It was a ridiculous question, really. In all likelihood, a Type III civilization never revealed itself to a Type II civilization for the same reason that Vulcans never reveal themselves to Type I civilizations.

T'Pol tried to imagine a Type IV civilization: a civilization that controlled the resources of an entire universe. If the mythology was to be believed, then the Ionians were on the verge of becoming a Type IV civilization when they disappeared. What became of the human Preserver colonies, and what of the Vulcan Preserver colonies? Were they far away, perhaps in another quadrant? Were they in another galaxy? T'Pol forced herself out of her reverie and looked at the computer screen on her desk.

A file number flashed in the upper left corner. It was telling her that a conversation that she had had with Admiral Forrest had been recorded in the ship log. Starfleet had come to a decision based on a report from Commanders Edgewater and Tir. She had better go unless she wanted to be late for the conference that she had called. She left her quarters with a PADD containing Starfleet's official orders, with the computer signatures of Admirals Forrest, Williams, Leonards, and Weiss.

She entered the observation lounge to see that everyone was on time. The entire senior staff was assembled along with Commander Edgewater. She didn't lose any time. "Computer, begin recording. Ship wide announcement: Official transfer of command, August 4th, 2156." T'Pol activated the intercom. "Now hear this. As of 1800 hours Tuesday, Captain Jonathan Archer was declared missing by Starfleet Command. As a result of this declaration, Starfleet has determined that a new captain will be assigned command of Enterprise until which time Captain Archer can be retrieved and returned to command, if possible. In consideration of recent events and the conduct of all officers in question, Starfleet has promoted an officer to replace Captain Archer.

"As most of you already know, the purpose of Commander Miriam Robert Edgewater's presence on this ship was due to consideration of his potential position of captain. I am now authorized to inform that Starfleet Command has determined this consideration to be in error and as of 0800 hours this morning, I have been promoted to the rank of captain in place of Jonathan Archer." T'Pol looked squarely at Robert and then back to everyone. "Starfleet has also ordered that Commander Edgewater remain onboard Enterprise as Chief Executive Officer.

"As a result of this order, Commander Edgewater will assume my previous duties as first officer. The reason for this order was made clear by Admiral Forrest. It is due to casualties suffered in the previous year as the result of unusually violent and unprovoked attacks, which has left us, in Starfleet's opinion, short-handed. The Starship Saratoga departed from Cygnus II four days ago with additional crew replacements. We will leave orbit of Deneb IV after our rendezvous with Saratoga. The crews of Saratoga and the Vulcan science vessel Lincra will continue the exploration of this planet.

"Our objectives are to continue with our mission of peaceful exploration, and when possible, acquire all information possible that may aid us in the recovery of Captain Jonathan Archer. These are the official orders of Starfleet Command. Should you have any questions regarding these orders, I am prepared to answer all of them. Should you wish to review these orders, they have been downloaded into the ship operational archive for the examination all crewmembers.

"For ship records: Many of you are aware of the recent events that transpired under the surface of Deneb IV three days ago. For the time being, Starfleet has ordered that information pertaining to the general nature of this event to be placed on a need-to-know basis. Suffice it to say that it is because of the event in question that we have acquired unconfirmed information that Admiral Forrest agrees is worth pursuing. Whether this information is accurate or not remains to be seen.

"We have the leads necessary to open an investigation into the abduction of Captain Archer. We will pursue all information acquired until which time it is confirmed or discredited. We will not rest until Captain Archer's whereabouts have been determined and he is safely back aboard this vessel. He would not give up on a single one of us. We will not give up on him."

Tir stood on the bridge of the Tavris. She expected T'Pol to join her at any moment. Renik reported that Enterprise was still in need of a great deal of repair, but the major damage had been dealt with. Their presence here was no longer required. She heard the lift open. She heard T'Pol's unmistakable footsteps as she approached. "It has been a long time since I've stood on a Vulcan bridge."

Tir turned to T'Pol. Although she could not see her old rival, she could hear her. That was more than enough to determine her location. "How does it feel?"

"I miss it, but it no longer feels comfortable."

"Ah, is that why you stayed with the humans?"

"No. You have heard?"

"Congratulations. I only wish that it did not come during such grave circumstances. Have you spoken to Commander Tucker yet?" Tir knew that T'Pol didn't like discussing things of such a personal nature, but it was necessary in this case.

"I have not had the chance. I will tonight. There are many things that I must discuss with him, after all."

"Indeed. Where will you go from here?"

"We will find Captain Archer."

"And when you do, what happens to you?"

"My place is on the bridge of the Enterprise. Until my service there is no longer required, there I shall remain."

"Yes, although you pursue your career diligently, you believe that there are more important things. I do agree, but it is the same stubborn T'Pol that I encounter. Do you ever change?"

"I used to believe that Vulcans do not change. I now believe that we never cease to change."

"Live long and prosper, T'Pol."

"Live long and prosper, Tir."

As T'Pol ventured through the corridors of Tavris, a journey that would eventually return her to Enterprise, she wondered about the woman who had changed so much in so few years. Tir's wisdom so closely reflected that of Custodian that T'Pol wondered whether Tir had truly discovered the deepest meaning of life. She now walked away from that woman and to her friends who were now in their darkest hour. The future, uncertain though it was, was upon them, and T'Pol wondered whether she, the crew of Enterprise, and indeed all beings caught in the midst of this temporal cold war were prepared for what was surely to come.

Whatever the case, and whatever the risk, they would meet this challenge head-on. For indeed their lives truly were infinite universes of infinite possibility. They would venture into this universe with all of its possibilities in search of that which was taken from them. How they could truly find the proper course, T'Pol did not know, but they would for there are always possibilities.


End file.
